Clockwork's Book of Fairy Tales
by Revalacy
Summary: A collection of Fairy Tales, kept by our favorite Master of Time. Most recent tale: A beautiful young maiden must teach a forlorn, phantom prince to love again to break a terrible curse.
1. Samantha and the Kindly Seven Ghosts

_Author's Notes: Welcome, everyone! So lately, I've been enchanted by Grimm's book of fairy tales, so I decided to write my own rendition of many popular fairy tales starring Team Phantom! Not all of the tales will be specifically from Grimm's Book of Fairy tales, and I may even throw in a few of my own if I see fit. If there are any you wish to see, then by all means just let me know. First off, we shall begin with a time-honored classic, my absolute favorite of all..._

**DISCLAIMER: Danny Phantom and all related characters are property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. Story Lines are properties of their respective owners, be they the Brother's Grimm, Disney, or the original novelist. I am merely borrowing them. Interpretations of these stories are my property.**

* * *

"Welcome, dear friends, to a world of enchantment. The stories I am about to tell you have been collected over the long years by many people, and I believe it is my duty to be sure their legacies live on. So, it is with this sentiment that I shall do my best in the retelling of these records, in the hopes that someday, you may tell them to your children, and they will tell them to their children, so that these stories will live on through the generations. Now, settle in, and we shall begin."

That was how Clockwork always began his retellings. He looked to the children and adults alike that sat before him by the hearth, watching him with fascination. As his muscular adult form shifted to the frail body of an old man, a smile crossed his lips. "Alright, children, what do we want to hear first?"

Little hands shot into the air at this request, all of them shouting out the names of stories they wished to hear.

"Little mer-"

"I wanna hear cinderella!"

"Hansel and Grettle!"

"PICK ME!"

He caught snatches of their words, and in turn began to chuckle. "Calm down, children, one at a time. We'll get to everyone. Now, who gets to choose first..." he muttered to himself, his eyes sweeping over the children sitting before him. "Ah, how about little Boxlunch?" he said, hoisting the young child into his lap. From across the room, he saw the broad smile of the girl's mother. She tapped her chin as she thought, her tongue protruding from the side of her mouth in her concentration.

"I know!" she exclaimed at last, her eyes lighting up like the sun. "Mister Clockwork, can you tell us the story with the seven dwarfs?" she asked in a small voice.

He chuckled again. "Of course child. Now, as you all know, the stories I tell you are much different from the stories you see in the movies. So, I shall tell you all the story... of Princess Samantha and the seven ghosts."

* * *

**Princess Samantha and the Seven Kindly Ghosts**

_Once upon a time, long ago in the middle of the cold winter, a beautiful queen sat at her window beside the hearth, sewing contently as she watched the lovely crystal flakes fall from the sky through the ebony-framed glass. And as she sat there sewing, she saw through the snow-covered garden a single lavender rose against the brilliant white of the snow. And so she thought aloud to herself, "If I could only have a child as white as the snow, and lavender as the rose, and black as the ebony wood..."_

_Months passed, and soon the queen's belly began to grow, and before long, she had a little daughter with skin as pale as the morning frost, and eyes as lavender as the lovely rose, and hair as black as the ebony wood. She named the child little Samantha, feeling it was a beautiful name for a beautiful child. And after the girl was born, the queen passed away._

_Though grief-stricken, after only a year the king took another wife. She was a beautiful woman, but she was also vain and haughty and couldn't bear to see any lovelier than she. The queen had a wonderful looking glass, and when she would speak the words, "Looking-glass upon the wall, who in this land is the fairest of all?" the looking glass would reply with, "Thou, o queen, art the fairest of them all."_

_And so it was for ten more happy years, until one day..._

"You stupid mirror, if you are lying to me-"

"My queen I cannot lie, I cannot even cease speaking in rhyme. What I have spoken is quite true, the princess Samantha is fairer than you."

The queen slammed the doors closed on the mirror, fuming as she stomped around the room. How was this possible? That her own stepdaughter had become more beautiful than she? In the girl's early years, she'd been awkward and fumbling, and could certainly not have surpassed her in beauty. But now... now as she was beginning to grow up, it did seem as though she was beginning to blossom into a rare and lovely flower.

"Penelope!" came the voice that shook her from her thoughts. She turned to see Jeremy, her husband the king, entering the room with a smile. "Are you ready, love? The king from Gheist will be here soon with his wife and son, and I do hope to perhaps strike a bargain with them regarding the children," he said and took the queen's hand. "Today's the day!"

As the couple descended the grand stairs, the queen's eyes fell upon the girl who she now loathed with ever fiber of her heart. It was true, she was quite lovely, even for being so young. And that was why she hated her, because deep in her heart she knew that as the years passed, she would become even more beautiful. It was simply something she couldn't have, but for now, she would just have to bide her time. After all, perhaps the girl would have a tragic accident?

Samantha stood awkwardly and then moved to stand beside her father, wringing her skirts with nervousness. She'd never met a boy before... well, other than the kitchen boy, Tucker, but he didn't really count. Several long agonizing minutes passed, in which she imagined her father promising her to all sorts of hideous and terrible men, each of them more and more disturbing with every thought. And at long last, across the room, the great front doors began to open and the steward called over the crowd of nobles that had gathered, "My Lords and Ladies, may I present to thee King Jackson, Queen Maddison, Princess Jasmine, and Prince Daniel of the kingdom of Gheist."

Samantha arched an eyebrow as she watched the royal family moving up the room to the throne, where the king, so named Jackson, donned a broad smile and shouted, "Jeremy! It's been too long!" and drew her father into a rather masculine hug.

"Indeed it has, Jack! You must tell me everything of Gheist... after you introduce me to your children! My specters it's been that long!"

The King Jack smiled and placed a hand on a shoulder of each of his children. The first, a girl with long copper hair and lovely turquoise eyes gave the king a very delicate curtsy while the boy bowed, his face burning red for some reason. "This pretty girl here is Jasmine."

"Jazz, please, your majesty," she said serenely, nodding as she spoke.

"And this strapping lad is my boy, Daniel!"

"Danny, your majesty. Daniel makes me sound old," he said sheepishly, his eyes on the ground. Samantha had to smile at this. He was so shy, even for a prince, that she couldn't help but smile. He looked to be around her age, maybe a year older. He raised his crystal orbs to gaze at her, then gave her a goofy half-smile that made her own shy grin broaden.

After some exchanged words between the adults, none of which the eleven-year-old princess cared to listen to, her father raised his hands for silence amongst the crowd and said in his deep voice, "Let us retire to the ballroom then, shall we? I believe we have a cause for celebration!"

Samantha simply quirked an eyebrow up at her father, who simply smiled and led them all into the grand ball room. It was a beautiful room, with deep red curtains lining the tall windows and beautiful tapestries covering the walls. She used to play in here quite often, dancing by herself in the way she saw the party guests waltzing. She loved being able to see her reflection in the gleaming floor. She didn't notice the scathing glares the queen was repeatedly sending in her direction, instead focusing on twirling around once to watch her deep violet skirts billow out around her.

While Samantha didn't notice, Danny did, and quirked an eyebrow at the vain Penelope's back. He didn't understand why she was giving her stepdaughter those heated looks, but he didn't want to say anything, for fear that her wrath might be directed at him publicly. He moved away from the angry queen to stand beside the young girl, his hands clasped behind his back. She glanced up at him and offered him a smile, then looked back to the mirror-like floor. When her eyes rested on his reflection, something flashed... his eyes, for a brief moment, had appeared to be brilliant green. She looked quickly at him, studying his face for any traces of what she'd seen.

As she studied him, she couldn't help but giggle at that quirky smile he gave her. "What?" he asked her at last, arching an eyebrow innocently.

"Dances are boring... let's sneak outside," she whispered, smiling mischievously and grabbing his hand. She led him outside, and for the next several hours, after meeting up with the kitchen boy in the gardens, the three romped and played until the sun began to dip below the far western horizon.

The three were sprawled out in the grass, staring up at the sky and giggling about random oddities. "Hey Sammy, you think we'll get to see each other again?" asked the young prince as he stared up at a passing cloud.

"Yeah, I think so. It's not more than a half-day's hard ride to your kingdom... at least, that's what my father said, so we could probably see each other if we wanted."

"Me too?" asked the dark-skinned kitchen boy.

"You too, Tuck," the princess said with a giggle.

-x-0-x-

The crisp autumn turned to a bitter winter, and winter turned to spring, and as the seasons changed, the princess grew. True to her words, she, the young prince of Gheist, and the kitchen boy would sneak off in the night to meet mid-way from their homes. Friendship blossomed between the three, and soon, they were inseparable. The days flew past, transforming the awkward young prince into a strapping young man, while the princess only grew more and more beautiful with every day.

The queen, however, grew more and more spiteful of her stepdaughter, the envy and loathing that had seeded in her heart growing like weeds and twisting the woman until she had no peace, day or night, for she could think of nothing else than the beauty of her stepdaughter that had surpassed her own. And through the six years that passed, the intensity of her hate multiplied like a virus in her blackened heart. It was shortly after the girl's seventeenth birthday that, at last, the vain queen snapped.

"Looking-glass upon the wall-"

"Pardon me, my queen, for interrupting, but after all this time, why do you bother asking?" was the mirror's response, the smoky face within the glass simply giving her a look that said 'please-stop-asking-me-that-question-you-already-know-the-answer.'

She stared darkly at the mirror and slammed the closet doors shut, storming from the room and into the war-chamber, where her memory turned to a time when husband was consulting with his generals. In the six passing years, tensions between their kingdom of Amity and the neighboring Kingdom of Phasma, ruled by the wicked and ruthless King Pariah, had reached a breaking point, until just one month earlier, the dark King Pariah had declared war on the kingdom of Amity and all of her allies.

_"Your majesty, they're approaching the capital city fast, I don't think we'll be able to stop them unless we muster a counterstrike in the next forty-eight hours," one of the men suggested, bowing deeply to the king as he spoke. Jeremy stroked his beard as he thought, nodding at last to the soldier's statement._

_"I think you're right," he said at last. "We'll ride at dawn to meet them in battle..." he said, but the queen didn't stay to hear the rest. Her husband the King would be expected to ride to war with the men, and to fight with them as well. That meant she would be here alone to attend the castle, alone with the servants and the damnable Samantha..._ She didn't think she could bear the girl any longer. It had been almost six months since then, and she knew her husband was still alive, and found that she no longer cared what he would do if Samantha simply vanished from the earth.

While the queen stewed in her own hatred, Samantha and Tucker had sneaked away from the castle, riding quickly to their well-known meeting place within the woods that connected Amity with Gheist. The found their way to the small clearing, where the smiling Prince Daniel was already waiting for them, leaning against a tree with his arms folded. Sam swung down from the horse, having borrowed a pair of Tucker's breaches and a tunic for the ride. She'd learned years ago that riding quickly in a dress was no easy feat.

"Any news from your side of the war?" she asked as she draped her cloak over the ground to sit on. He shook his head.

"No, not really. Same as it was last week... still haven't heard from my father, but hey, they say no news is good news, right?" he said with a shrug and moved to sit on one of the stumps. Tucker sighed loudly as he unbridled the mare and let her graze in the clearing, then moved to sit beside his two friends.

They turned their talk away from the war and on to less depressing subjects, like the mustache Tucker had marked on Queen Penelope's portrait. As the trio laughed and exchanged stories, the sun began to set, splashing the sky with lovely hues of red and gold. At long last, it was time to return home. Tucker stood, stretching, then moved to saddle up the mare, who'd been standing protectively beside her masters. "Coming Sam?" he asked after bridling the horse.

"Yeah, in a minute Tuck, I'll be right there," she said as she stood, shaking the dirt from her cloak and draping it over her shoulders. "So, same time tomorrow, your highness?" she asked with a smirk.

"Of course, milady, wouldn't miss it for the world," he said, his smile fading as he stood close to her. "Just... be careful, okay?" he whispered softly, his eyes softening from their usual brilliant fierceness.

Sam blinked, feeling her heart flutter in her chest. "Alright," she breathed in return, her eyes meeting him for a brief instant before he drew back, gave her that goofy smile that made her heart melt, and mounted his own steed and sped from the clearing. Sam's face was still tingling when she joined Tucker on her mare and made way for their home.

By the time they arrived, darkness had fallen. Samantha quickly slipped into her room and shut the door, while Tucker rushed to the kitchens to finish his chores. Neither spoke a word as the parted ways, only flashed one another a swift smile before vanishing.

While the pair were slipping quietly back into their places, in the tallest tower of the castle the hateful queen was pacing, her face flushed. "This cannot go on, I refuse to allow it to go on!" she snarled at the mirror, which simply remained silent, save for the irritable sigh it released. "How is it possible that she just keeps growing more and more beautiful? How?" she whispered almost madly to herself, trembling with rage. At long last, after more insane ranting, she paused, her eyes lighting up in a way that made the mirror fear for its safety.

"I know..." she whispered at last. She peered her head from the door, glancing this way and that. "Valerie!" she shouted, and the girl dashed up to meet the queen's beckon call.

"Yes, your majesty?" she asked, bowing deeply.

"I want you to summon the huntsman to my chambers immediately."

"Yes, your majesty, right away," she responded, then dashed back down the stairs again and to the lower levels. She rapped on the wooden door to the huntsman's room, waiting silently for him to answer.

"Enter," came a voice from within, and she slowly did as commanded. She knew of the huntsman, and he terrified her. He scared most other people as well, she remembered, so she supposed it wasn't so bad. She entered the chamber and immediately bowed low, her eyes fixed on the ground. "Sir Skulker, the queen as requested an audience with you," she said.

"Very well, child. You're dismissed," he murmured and strode past her. She exhaled deeply and returned to her work, now more unnerved than she had been upon being called by the unstable queen.

The huntsman entered the queen's chamber, dropping to one knee when he drew close enough. "You summoned me, my queen?" he asked, his eyes averted in respect.

"Yes, I did Skulker. I have a very specific task for you that no one may know about, not even the king. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, my queen. What is it that you would have me do?"

From her vanity table the queen drew a beautiful gem-encrusted box. "My trusted huntsman, I would have you take the lovely Samantha from this castle, deep into the woods, and kill her."

Skulker's eyes shot back up again, confusion obvious on his visage. "My queen? Kill the princess?"

"And as proof you have killed her, you will cut out her heart and bring it to me in this box. If you do not do this, I shall know, and you shall be exiled from this country on pain of death," she said harshly, her piercing eyes boring into his.

"Yes, my queen. It will be done."

With that declaration the huntsman left the queen's chamber, moving for his own and preparing for the bloody deed he would have to perform come dawn.

When morning did arrive, Samantha bathed and dressed quickly, moving to the gardens and sitting peacefully amongst the roses. From behind the bushes the huntsman emerged, watching the princess silently as she hummed to herself. There were so many thoughts and emotions sweeping through the hunter's mind, and the one that stood out amongst them all was guilt. Guilt at taking the life of a child for a mad queen.

It was around then that she took notice of the hunter, and offered him a gentle smile. "Good morning, Skulker. Lovely day, isn't it?"

He merely nodded. "Your highness, would you walk with me? I have something I wish to discuss with you." The young woman agreed, and walked with the huntsman to the edge of the wood.

"What is it you wish to speak with me about?" she asked, arching an eyebrow and turning to face him. Her eyes fell upon his hand as he began to draw his knife, and they went wide with shock and mingled fear. "Skulker, what are you doing?" she asked, a faint trembling in her voice. He raised the weapon and closed his eyes. In that instant, with the flashing of light on the blade, she felt as though her entire life were streaming before her very eyes... or perhaps those were tears, she couldn't be sure.

He paused, looking into her face for several long, agonizing moments. His hand began to waver, his resolve crashing down around him. "I... I can't do it..." he said at last, lowering his hand and dropping the blade to the ground. "Your highness, your life is in grave danger. Your stepmother the queen has ordered you be killed and your body disposed of."

Sam's eyes drew wider still, so that she thought they might fall out if she opened them any wider. "But... why would she want to kill me?" she asked almost angrily.

"She never did say, your highness, only that you are to be killed." He fell silent. "Run. Run far away from here and hide. Don't look back."

She stepped back and nodded. "Thank you, Skulker," she whispered, then turned and dashed into the woods.

The day wore on, and after only a few hours, Tucker began to worry. It was nearly time to meet the prince in the far wood, and Sam was nowhere to be found. Even when the time came to leave he couldn't find her, so hoping that she had gone on ahead, he left for the clearing.

He arrived after the long ride, and when he saw that the prince was alone in the clearing, his heart fell.

"Hey Tuck," the prince said in greeted, jumping down from the branch he'd been sitting on. "Where's Sam?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. The dark-skinned boy shook his head.

"I was hoping she was here... I can't find her anywhere at the castle. In fact, I haven't seen her since this morning when she went out to the gardens."

The other boy's face visibly paled at the news, and he bit his lip nervously. "Do you think she's okay?" he asked, suspicion lurking through his mind. Something wasn't sitting well about this, and he had the sneaking suspicion that he knew who might be behind her sudden disappearance.

Tucker simply shrugged. "It's anyone's guess. I just hope she's not hurt."

Danny nodded, silent as he contemplated just what to do. "Tuck, you have to do something for me, okay? When you get back, try and keep an eye on the queen. Something didn't sit right with me about her."

The other nodded quietly, and the two parted ways, each of their hearts heavy with worry.

-x-0-x-

Sam didn't know how long she'd been running, only that she couldn't stop. By her guess, it'd been hours since the huntsman had spared her life. The hem of her dress was tattered and torn, and her hair had fallen out of the elegant knot it had been in behind her head. The trees around her were growing dark and menacing, almost so that she was afraid to even look at them.

But she was out of breath, and very tired, so her sprint slowed to a walk. She had no idea where she was, only that by now she was very deep in the forest and very lost. She started to despair, drawing her arms around herself, as it was very cold, and wishing to herself that she only wished she'd been able to tell someone where she'd gone, so that at least if she were lost, they might come and find her.

But it was far too late, and she was already too lost to find her way back. She was almost sure that the forest had swallowed up the tracks she'd left as well, making it nearly impossible to follow her through. That did her mind some ease, knowing that if her stepmother wanted someone to try and kill her again, they'd have a hard time of it.

She stopped short, her eyes falling on a tiny cottage in the middle of the woods, one that was rather quaint and far removed from civilization. She stepped forward, shivering tremendously, and tapped gently on the door. There was no answer, so she thought that perhaps it was abandoned. When she entered, it certainly looked as though it'd been abandoned. It was a downright mess, and that was saying something. Dishes were scattered over the table, clothes lay here and there, and it looked as though no one had picked up a duster in a good fifty years.

Even through her inspection of the cottage, she began to yawn. She'd never stopped running once Skulker had bade her run for her life. She was exhausted. Once clearing a way to the stairs through the mess, she made her way up, and found a row of seven beds, each of them unique. Sam was far too tired to investigate further, and collapsed onto the closest one and fell asleep.

-x-0-x-

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" came an angry shriek from somewhere nearby her. It was still dark, and she was rather disoriented.

"Johnny, calm down, would ya? It's just a girl," came another voice, this one far more feminine than the first one.

"She's pretty," chimed a child-like voice from the other side of her. She yawned and stretched, and heard each of the voices in the room jump.

"I don't care if she's just a girl, she's a trespasser!" the first voice complained.

"Let's stuff her in a box!" a new voice shouted. She rubbed her eyes, hoping to clear the grogginess from them. Faces around her were beginning to swim into her vision.

"Oh good, she's awake," said another feminine voice, this one silkier than the other.

"Maybe she's lost?" asked one of the figures standing around her. He had large glasses and sounded as though he were speaking with his nose plugged.

"Tell us, child, from where do you hail?" asked a wiry young man from beside her, who also wore glasses but had filled out far better than the scrawny boy beside him.

She looked at them for a moment, unsure if she ought to trust them. Then again, she had intruded into their home and fallen asleep in one of their beds, so she did suppose she owed them that much. "M-my name is Samantha, Sam for short. I'm the daughter of K-King Jeremy of Amity..." she began, and was cut off immediately by the gasps and strange looks from the figures around the room.

"The princess? What on earth are you doing in a dark place like this?" asked the first feminine voice again, which belonged to a young woman with flaming blue hair.

"I... I'm not sure... this morning, my stepmother tried to have me killed, but the huntsman told me to run and don't look back..." she murmured, drawing her knees up to her chest. "I'm afraid that she'll try to do it again if she learns that I'm still alive." She sighed heavily.

"The queen tried to kill you? That's awful!" exclaimed the second feminine voice, which belonged to a lovely harem girl.

"We should keep her here!" came the youngest voice, which belonged to a boy who's hand was a jagged hook.

"I agree," said the frail boy with glasses.

"Yeah? Well I don't really care!" said the angry first voice, which belonged to a man who's name was apparently Johnny.

"Shush up, Johnny, you don't get to decide here," said the woman with the flaming hair. "Sweetie, if you wish it, you may stay here. My name is Ember. My friend here is Desiree."

"A pleasure," said the harem girl, giving her a slight bow and a smile.

"Likewise," the princess said, returning the bow.

"This kid here is Youngblood. He's the youngest."

He clambered up onto the bed, eying her with avid interest. "Are you really a princess?" he asked, arching an eyebrow in a way that desperately miss her friends.

"Yes, I am," she said with a smile.

"Over there you have Ghost Writer, and beside him is Sydney Poindexter."

Each of them gave her a swift bow. She smiled broadly and returned their gestures.

"This floating fool here is The Box Ghost. Just ignore him, he can get annoying at times. And lastly, that cranky-ass over there is Johnny."

He gave her a stiff nod and folded his arms.

"I'm pleased to meet all of you," she said, standing from the bed and offering them a curtsy. "And I'm very grateful to you for helping me. In return, I'd like to do something for you, if you'll allow it."

"Certainly," Desiree said kindly, sitting at a nearby table and crossing one leg over the other.

"I'd like to clean up this cottage just a little... if that's alright. It is a little messy... and I could cook for you, if you'd like."

Ember tapped her chin while she thought. "You know, a little cleaning might be refreshing. Alright, you can do that if you like. There is just one thing you must do for us."

"Anything," she said fervently, looking from face to face.

"You must promise that unless you know who it is, you will let no one into this cottage. Your stepmother is bound to figure out that you're still alive, and she'll try to kill you again if she gets the chance. Let no one in."

Sam nodded. "I swear to you I won't let in anyone I don't know."

-x-0-x-

"It is done, my queen," Skulker said quietly, kneeling before her and offering the box. She took in gingerly, and opened the lid to peer into it's contents. There lay a heart, which she believed to be Samantha's, and she cried out in terrible glee.

"AT LAST!" she shouted madly, dancing around the room with the box held high above her head. She set it nicely on her vanity, where she might see it every morning when she woke and know that she was once again the most beautiful in all the land. Of course, she had to know this truth for herself, so she dismissed the hunter and opened the closet doors that hid the magic mirror.

"Looking glass upon the wall, who in this land is the fairest of all?" she asked happily, her heart swelling with pride.

And the mirror replied, "Oh, queen, thou art fairest of all I see, but through the woods, where the seven ghosts dwell, Samantha is still alive and well, and none is so fair as she."

The queen's face paled and she stared, shocked and horrified, at the smoky face in the mirror. "W-what? How is this possible? That wretched huntsman betrayed me!" she shrieked, throwing the gem-encrusted box across the room and screaming loudly. From below her window, Tucker sat, his eyes wide with shock. The queen had tried to have Sam killed? And for what?

He didn't stay to question the matter further, instead dashing into the servants' wing of the castle. "Valerie!" he called when he arrived, and the girl peered up at him over her book.

"What?"

"Cover for me for a few hours! I have to go somewhere."

She sighed in resignation. "Fine, but when you get back, you better tell me what the blazes is going on," she said irritably and stood, making her way towards the kitchens.

And with that, Tucker ran, scrambling onto his horse quickly and riding hard towards their meeting place. Danny had to know what'd happened. If anything, the young prince might be able to do something about it.

Danny was waiting for him when he arrived, sitting against a tree and staring up at the deep blue sky with a look of worry in his eyes. When he saw Tucker approach his eyes fell on the boy and he asked, "Any news?"

"Yeah, and you're not gonna like it," he said wearily, breathing heavily and sitting beside his friend. "It's the queen. She tried to have Sam killed for some reason, and told the castle huntsman to bring her heart back in a box!"

The normally-warm pallor in Danny's face faded to a pale one and he gulped. "Please tell me there's good news to this," he said quietly, almost begging.

"I guess the hunter decided he couldn't do it and let her go. No one knows where she is, just that she ran off into the woods to some cottage owned by seven ghosts."

Danny heaved a sigh of relief and nodded, slumping back down against the tree. "Okay, good. Just... send word my way if something happens, okay?"

Tucker nodded, and once again the two parted ways.

-x-0-x-

Weeks passed with Samantha in the care of the ghosts who she'd come to grow so fond of. Every morning they left for their jobs in the forest, some to the copper mines, some to the jewel mines, and some to the lumber yards. When they left for their work, Sam would then set to work cleaning, humming to herself as she did so, and before they returned home, she would prepare a lovely meal for them all to share. It wasn't exactly the life of royalty she was accustomed to, but she was still alive, and that was what counted to her.

While they were away in the fields, she was left at the cottage quite alone. Every morning before leaving, Ember would give her the same warning: "Do not let anyone into the cottage. Your stepmother could have gotten to anyone, and you aren't safe around anyone but us."

And every time, Sam obeyed. Thus far, no one had come calling, so it really didn't matter too much. However, one day, that changed when a kind old peddler woman came to call.

"Trinkets to sell! Very cheap!" sounded the old woman's voice. Sam peered out the window, her eyebrow arched. The woman didn't look dangerous, so she thought nothing of it and, rather than letting the old woman in, she went out, wiping her hands on her apron.

"May I look?" she asked cautiously, brushing a stray lock of ebony hair from her eyes.

"Of course, my dear, have a look!" she said with a toothy (or not-so-toothy, as she was missing several teeth) smile. Of the objects she was carrying, the one that caught the young woman's eye was a lovely necklace, made of fine lace and silver and woven around a beautiful violet gem.

"What about this one?" she asked, holding it up to admire the quality. "It's very pretty."

"Then it is yours for the price of... oh, what about three silver pieces?"

"That would be wonderful! Here you are," she said, dropping the coins into the old woman's outstretched hand.

"Let me put it on you properly," said the woman, and then clasped it gently around the girl's neck. Sam smiled gratefully to her and returned inside the cottage, while the old peddler woman rushed off through the woods.

As Sam stood at the basin, washing the dishes, she felt almost as though the necklace were growing tighter and tighter around her neck, until she couldn't breath. She staggered back, holding her neck, until the lack of oxygen finally took her and she collapsed onto the floor, seemingly dead.

It was quite fortunate for the lovely princess of Amity that the old peddler woman had decided to visit her in the evening, around the time the ghosts would return. She might have rushed out to greet them like she normally did, where she not laying on the ground unconscious. That was the first thing the ghosts notices when they arrived at the cottage.

"That's odd..." Ember muttered to herself as she approached the door, peering around the woods to be sure that they were truly alone and no one intended to ambush them when they entered the cottage. "There's not a sound, and normally she comes out to meet us, doesn't she?" she whispered to the others, holding up a hand for them all to be as quiet as they could.

Desiree entered the cottage first, peering around for anything out of the ordinary. And then her eyes fell on the ground, where the princess lay, and she screamed.

The others dashed in immediately, looking to see what had frightened the harem girl so, and saw it to be the young princess laying on the ground, seemingly dead. Ghost Writer dashed forward, propping her up in his arms and looking for something that might revive her. Ember knelt down beside him, and her eyes came to rest at the necklace she wore around her neck.

"What in the blazes is this?" she muttered, reaching around to unclasp the lace from around her neck. It fell to the ground and shattered to dust, and Sam began to breathe once more, sputtering and coughing as though she'd inhaled water.

A collective sigh of relief swept the room, each of the ghosts breathing easily once again. Even the constantly angry Johnny seemed at ease once more.

"What happened?" asked Poindexter, who came to kneel before them.

Sam rubbed her throat, looking from ghost to ghost for a moment and trying to recall just what had happened. "I'm not sure," she said after a few moments, unable to recall the old woman or the necklace.

"Come on, dear, let's get you upstairs to rest a bit before we make dinner, alright?" Desiree offered, helping the young woman to her feet and leading her up the stairs.

-x-0-x-

The queen emerged from the woods, tearing off the disguise she wore and slipping quietly back into the castle with a mad, gleeful smile plastered to her wane face, for it was obvious that the envy and loathing in her heart had kept her from any sort of peaceful rest. She returned to her tower room and paced, chattering quite madly to herself.

"The lace should have done the trick. She should be quite dead by now," she murmured to herself, then began to groom herself for her question to the mirror, just to be certain that she would indeed still be the fairest of them all. She threw open the closet doors, looking quite pleased with herself, and said, "Looking-glass upon the wall, who in this land is the fairest of all?"

The mirror was silent for several moments, and at last replied, "Oh, queen, thou art fairest of all I see, but through the woods, where the seven ghosts dwell, Samantha is still alive and well, and none is so fair as she."

Again the queen began to scream, this time with more intensity of a thousand wailing banshees, and frightened all those who could hear her. "HOW is that little brat STILL ALIVE!" she shrieked, slamming the closet doors shut once more and making quite a wreck of the room in her anger. At last she calmed, running a hand through her fair red hair to steady herself. "It's no matter, then, I'll just have to try something else," she whispered to herself, sitting once again at the vanity table and staring into the mirror, looking for some answer to her dilemma in her reflection.

"Perhaps... perhaps it's time... that I used the darker arts for this problem... yes... no one will suspect a thing..." she whispered to herself, looking wildly around her room. She descended from the tower and into the lower levels of the castle, into a hidden chamber she never revealed to others, and shut herself up within it's chambers and began to plot once again.

-x-0-x-

Danny paced his chamber, staring at the ground and chewing his lip apprehensively. He didn't like not knowing if his best friend was alive or dead, nor did he like that her own stepmother had been the one to take out a contract on the girl's life. He'd seen the hatred in her eyes those many years ago, and it pained him that he hadn't done something sooner. Of course, there wasn't much that he could do right now, aside from pace his room and hope for the best.

The door creaked open and the head of his sister moved through the gap. "Danny, you should rest. You're going to worry yourself to death," she said gently, sitting on his bed and watching him as he paced.

"I know... but I can't. I know that since we haven't heard of her death so far, that probably means she's still alive. But I still can't shake this feeling that something horrible is going to happen if I don't do something about it."

Jazz nodded, feeling something close to pity for her brother. "I'd like to know why you're so worried about the princess. I mean, aren't you just friends?" she asked somewhat mischievously. He shot her a heated look and leaned against the window, folding his arms across his chest.

"Yes, we're just friends. That's it. That doesn't mean I can't be worried about her... Tuck's worried too."

The young woman nodded. "I know, I was just asking, little brother. Just... make sure you don't invest too much energy into worrying. Father's supposed to be home within a week or so. I'm sure he wouldn't want to come home to you all burned out as you are." With that she left him to his thoughts.

-x-0-x-

The weeks drifted past, the warm summer turning into a crisp autumn, and the leaves of the trees began to turn all shades of amber and red and began to fall. There had been no further incidents at the cottage, which was quite fortunate for its ghostly inhabitants and their guest. Things had gone rather smoothly after that, with all of them growing more and more fond of one another as the days went by.

Samantha stood at the water basin, washing up what was left of dinner and then moving to the sitting room, where she opened a book like she did every night and prepared to read to the others. They listened to her voice as she read to them another chapter from one of her favorite stories, which told of a beautiful young maiden trapped up high in a tower and the prince that came to rescue her.

"...and he could see with them as before. He led her to his kingdom where he was joyfully received, and they lived for a long time afterwards, happy and contented. The end."

"Read us another!" chimed the small Youngblood, who had sat in the young woman's lap as she had read to them. She smiled sweetly at him and closed the book, setting it on the table beside them and stood, scooping up the child as she went.

"I think it's quite time to get some rest for you," she said with a chuckle and carried him up the stairs, followed by the other six ghosts. Each of them in turn fell into sleep and she descended into the sitting room, where she'd made a bed for herself over several chairs and quickly fell asleep herself. In the morning when she woke, the others had already gone off, and so she set to work with that morning's chores. It wasn't long after she'd finished her sweeping that she heard the calls of a child from the woods.

"Help! I'm stuck!" called the child. Sam, in her worry, rushed from the cottage and out to the child, which she helped untangle from the roots.

"Are you alright?" she asked, looking at the little girl with growing concern.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, miss," said the child, beaming up at her with gratitude.

"Oh it was nothing. You should run along before dark comes. You're quite a long way from home."

The child shrugged. "For saving me, I'd like you to have this," she said, drawing from her pocket a small, lovely barrette with lavender roses painted over it.

"It's very lovely... I couldn't possibly," she said, smiling serenely.

"Really, I wish you to have it," the child said. "I'll put it into your hair for you!" she said excitedly and beamed at the young princess.

"Alright then," Sam finally agreed, ignoring the nagging feeling in her gut. The girl stood up on her tip toes, sliding the accessory into Sam's hair and clipping it into place.

"That looks very pretty. Thank you again miss!" the little girl exclaimed and dashed off into the woods.

Sam stood and smiled, returning once again to the cottage to finish her chores. As the hours wore on, she began to feel week and disoriented, and suddenly the breath left her lungs and she collapsed once more, seemingly dead. She lay there for several hours before the ghosts returned to the cottage, and just as before, they were suspicious the moment they arrived.

"Okay, this can't be good," muttered Ember. Poindexter dashed ahead, throwing the door open to the cottage and rushing inside.

"She's here!" he called back, kneeling beside the fallen princess and lifting her head gently.

"We must catch who is doing this and shove them in a tiny box!" shouted the Box Ghost, shaking his fists wildly.

At the sight of the young woman, Youngblood immediately dissolved into tears, wailing like a banshee in the doorway. Desiree picked up the child and rocked him, looking around for some clue as to just how someone seemed to keep getting to the young princess.

Johnny knelt down beside the studious Poindexter, looking over the young woman quickly. "What's this?" he said at last, pulling the clip from her hair and dropping it. Upon touching the floor, the hair accessory shattered to dust and the girl began to breathe again, sputtering and gulp down air as though she'd inhaled water.

A collective sigh of relief went around the room. Youngblood squirmed out of the harem girl's arms and dashed to Sam, tackling her with a hug.

"We thought you were dead!" he wailed, squeezing her. While the girl comforted the child, the others ascended to the upper floor, where they closed the door to discuss just what was going on.

"I don't think she'd be stupid enough to let the old hag in twice. There's foul play at work here," Desiree muttered.

"Agreed," Ember said, folding her arms and sitting on the bed. "If it's the queen, she's got to be the world's greatest master of disguise. That girl's not thick."

"Maybe the queen's a witch?" suggested Poindexter, who was stroking his chin thoughtfully.

Ghost Writer nodded. "That would explain her disguises."

"And the POISON!" shouted the Box Ghost, who threw his arms into the air at this declaration. They all shushed him at once, and he clapped his hands over his mouth.

"So what, do we tell her she can't even go outside?" asked Johnny. "Somehow I don't think that'll help, especially not with a witch."

"I guess we just hope she learned her lesson and remembers not to touch anything that came from someone she didn't know." Ember shrugged and leaned against the headboard of her bed.

-x-0-x-

The Queen returned to the castle after having cast of the glamor she'd shrouded herself in. Once again she dashed to her room, and once again she groomed herself in preparation for speaking with the mirror. Surely this time they wouldn't discover what had happened until it was too late.

She opened the closet doors and waited for the mirror to rouse, after which she asked, "Looking-glass upon the wall, who in this land is the fairest of all?"

The mirror sighed in resignation, then replied, "Oh, queen, thou art fairest of all I see, but through the woods, where the seven ghosts dwell, Samantha is still alive and well, and none is so fair as she."

This time the queen was so shocked that she swooned and fainted upon her bed for several hours. She didn't awaken again until darkness had fallen, and when she did, she started to scream so loud that she might give a siren a run for her money. Tucker jumped when he heard the sound, clapping his hands over his hears to block out the horrible sound, and once it died away, he slipped outside to sit below the queen's window once more.

"She STILL lives? How is that even possible?" she growled, turning things over violently and breaking all she could reach, save for the magic mirror. It was true that by now, she was quite mad with loathing and envy that not even the king himself, should he return, could keep her in check. It was that thought that made Tucker's skin crawl.

He heard her storm from the room and followed closely, but out of sight so that the raving queen wouldn't know she was being stalked. He stood beside the door she vanished into, listening through the wood to her odd words.

"This time, she's not going to come back to life, I'll make certain of that," she growled, pouring liquids from vials into a bubbling pot. "Not when she eats this... no antidote is strong enough to counter this poison!" she babbled, and began to cackle like a wicked old crone.

The dark-skinned kitchen boy felt his heart leap into his throat. She was going to poison Sam? He turned and bolted, running right into the scullery maid.

"Valerie!" he said in surprise, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose again.

"Alright Tucker, spill it! What in specters is going on?" she snapped, putting her hands on her hips stubbornly. Tucker grumbled and dragged her up the stairs and out to the gardens, far away from the door the queen was raving behind, and looked around to make sure no one was listening.

"Okay, the things is that... you've noticed the princess hasn't been around lately?"

"Yes... but didn't the queen send her away to some boarding school in the south country?"

"That's what she's telling everyone, but she didn't. Sam never when to a boarding school. The queen tried to have her killed."

The scullery maid stared at him for several long minutes, trying to discern whether he was joking or not. "Right..."

"Valerie, I'm serious! Right now as we speak, she's cooking up something to poison her! And if we don't do something soon, the princess is going to die!"

The girl's face paled. "So what are we supposed to do, go running in there like heroes and stop her?" she asked with an eyebrow quirked.

"No, just for suggesting she's using witchcraft she can have us put to death. I'm gonna try and get to Prince Daniel and see if maybe he can't do something about it, maybe get to Sam before the queen does."

"So what do you want me to do?" she asked.

"I don't know, stall her somehow. Stall her for as long as you can so I can get to Danny."

"Since when are you on such good terms with the royalty as to call them by nicknames?" she asked suspiciously.

"Never mind that right now, there'll be time for that later, just go! I'll try and get to the prince."

-x-0-x-

"Who is it?" came a voice from within the chamber. The prince hadn't left his room in days, save to eat, bathe, and speak with his sister when necessary.

"There's someone here who wishes to speak with you, your highness."

"Is it Tucker?"

"Er... no, your highness, it's the girl from the village... the one that tackled you last month."

Danny groaned inwardly. She was truly starting to get on his nerves in a way that no other human being possibly could. He opened his door slowly, grudgingly, and gave the girl on the other side a half-hearted smile. "Paulina... why are you here?" he asked, narrowing an eye at her as though trying to read her mind.

"I just wanted to drop by and say hello, your highness," she said with a broad smile that attempted to be seductive. He sighed.

Just as he was about to tell her she was wasting her time, another of the servants bolted into the room, flashing a hand signal at Danny that told him Tucker was here, and it was urgent. It was well past dark, which was odd, since Tucker usually only visited him in the day, and so he was already worried by the time he reached the stables.

"Tuck, what's going on?" he asked, closing the stable doors behind him. Tucker stood there, looking a little worn from the journey and giving the poor steed he'd ridden in on some water. The poor beast looked about to collapse.

"It'sthequeenDannyshe'sgonnakillherwehavetostopher!" he blurted, his words running together in a hardly coherent sentence. Danny placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay, calm down and tell me what happened," the prince said calmly and listened as Tucker recounted exactly what he'd heard. When the other finished he found his brain stunned. "Where is she? We need to hurry," he said, trying to keep the calm from leaving his voice.

The pair saddled up on fresh horses and left, riding as fast as their horses could gallop back to Amity in hopes that they might prevent the queen from committing homicide.

-x-0-x-

Three days passed at the little cottage without further incident, which was a blessing to its ghostly inhabitants. The princess recovered wonderfully, and went back to her daily routine as though nothing had happened. However, she knew something was wrong. Why had she been bewitched twice in a row? Had her stepmother hired a witch to do off with her? Or did she have more enemies than she realized?

After stranger thoughts than these chased one another around her mind she sighed heavily and pushed them aside, figuring it best to simply ignore such strange musings until later. Instead, she found herself thinking of home, and the friends she'd been forced to leave behind because of her stepmother's insane agenda. More than anything, she found missing those nights when she and Tucker would sneak out to meet Danny in the forest and they would just lay beneath the stars and talk...

The prince's face swam into her mind and she found herself blushing. The last time they'd spoken, he'd been so near to her she could almost feel the heat from his body. She scolded herself for having those thoughts and immediately went back to work for a few moments before deciding to rest for a few minutes. What harm could it do, after all?

It was only a few moments later that she heard rustling from the woods outside the cottage and then the voice of a man as he rapped on the door. She peered out the window to see who it was and found it to be a kindly, elderly old farmer carrying a bushel of apples that appeared to be far too full.

"Can I help you?" she called through the door, biting her lip nervously. She didn't know this man, but the person she was hiding from was a woman, and so she opened the door. "Come in and sit for a moment. You look tired."

He chuckled. "Yeah, this basket is a trite too heavy," he said wearily and dropped the bushel on the porch, sitting in a chair beside the princess and mopping his brow with a handkerchief. "You know, it might help me out if you took a bunch of 'em. I have no need for so many apples, but it seemed such a waste to just leave 'em like that, so I tried to grab 'em. Here, just grab a few," he said, hoping that his offering to let her choose the apples would sate her suspicions.

It appeared that it had, and she picked four of them from the pile. The man flashed her a winning smile and the pair talked for a long time, until the sun began to move towards the western horizon.

"Well, lass, I ought to be heading to the farm. You have a good night, now, ya hear?" he said and tipped his wide-brimmed straw hat to her after picking up the considerably-lighter basket. He turned and headed into the woods, then vanished into the trees and left the young princess alone in the cottage.

-x-0-x-

Danny nearly fell off the steed as they drew up to the castle, his anxiety overcoming him as he dashed up the castle steps to find the wicked queen. Valerie rushed out to greet them, her face belying her emotions.

"I tried to stall as best I could, but she just took off! She went into the forest and followed one of the older paths, that one there," she said, pointing it out. In his desperation, Danny completely forgot about anything and everything else, including the fact that he had a horse, and dashed into the woods as fast as his legs would carry him. He spotted a trail of apples through the brush and roots, something that struck him as rather odd since these trees didn't appear to bear fruit, and it was nearly the winter months as it was.

His heart was pounding in his chest, and not due to exhaustion. He knew that if he didn't run, he was going to lose his best friend and there would be nothing he could do about it. It was right about then that he tripped, hitting the ground hard. He sat there, panting, when he heard a rustling through the trees and peered up. There was a strange old man there, looking around for anyone who might spy him. When he was satisfied, he tossed the bushel of apples to the ground and heaved a sigh of relief, then began to laugh something wicked.

Before the prince's eyes, the old man began to change, until his appearance was that of a haggard old woman. He gritted his teeth and waited until she'd dashed off deeper into the forest before standing and starting after her, careful not to make too much sound so he wouldn't alert this vile witch.

But she vanished through the trees, and he was left wondering exactly where she had gone. The sun was beginning to set in the western horizon, and soon it would be far too dark for him to find this cottage before Sam ended up in a coffin.

-x-0-x-

She hid outside the window, watching as the girl finished her chores and sat down to rest again. Sam eyed the apples, feeling hunger clawing at her belly and knowing that just one apple wasn't going to kill her. So she stood, walking across the room to the kitchen and picking through the pile of apples she'd picked out. One of them was so perfect she picked it up. It shined like a polished ruby and looked like it might taste quite good.

The queen watched, her breath held, as she slowly brought the apple to her lips and opened her mouth to take a bite. She heard rustling through the trees behind her and her heart began to race. She was short on time, and if this failed she didn't know what she was going to do. The ghosts would be here soon, and she couldn't risk their interference again.

"SAM, NO!" came a shout from behind her, but she smiled with glee when she saw it was already too late. Sam had bit into the apple, and it was not two heartbeats later that the queen saw her face pale as she began to sputter and cough. From the other side of the clearing she heard angry shouts as the ghosts arrived on the scene, spotting the woman through the bushes.

Behind her, the young prince of Gheist broke through the woods, sprinting for the cottage at break-neck speeds. She threw up her hands in victory and shrieked in glee, dancing around as though she'd just won a long, bloody war.

Danny dropped to his knees beside the fallen princess, scooping her up into his arms and pressing his forehead to her cold one. The ghosts filed into the house, kneeling down around them and peering at the girl.

Ember searched her for anything enchanted, while Desiree swept the area for anything out of the ordinary.

"Damn you... why'd you have to do it..." Danny mumbled, cradling the fallen girl in his arms. Beside him the youngest of the Ghosts was sobbing, rubbing his eyes and muttering incoherently.

"I found something!" called the Ghost writer from the kitchen, picking up the apple the princess had taken a bite out of. He sniffed it gingerly and then held it away from himself, plugging his nose in disgust.

"Poison," confirmed Johnny, who grabbed the tainted fruit and threw it out the window. It was then he spotted the rejoicing old hag, and his anger swelled to the surface once again. "Hey! It's her!" he roared, dashing out the door, followed closely by Ember and Poindexter. They rushed after the old hag, shouting curses that no one paid any heed to.

Desiree knelt beside Danny and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking her head sadly. "If only we'd arrived a moment sooner... maybe she'd still be..." she trailed off, finding the words too painful to complete.

The Box Ghost hung his head, rubbing his own eyes as he stared at the lovely girl. "I'm going to make her a box!" he said at last. "We can't put her in the cold ground, that's too dark a place for her! I shall make her a glass box so that all may see her beauty even in her final sleep!" he shouted through tears and floated off determinedly.

Danny gulped down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him and simply cradled the girl for awhile, until his blood began to boil with rage. The old hag would have to pay for the harm she caused, queen or not. He stood, bringing Sam with him and laying her gently upon one of the beds. His eyes had become a dangerous shade of green, which caused both Desiree and Ghost Writer to draw back in shock. The prince bolted from the room, dashing after the ghosts that had vanished into the wood.

It had started to rain, he noticed. Well that was just his luck, wasn't it? It didn't matter, he was going to finish it one way or the other.

-x-0-x-

Tucker stood beside Valerie, now sick with worry. He hadn't chased after Danny, mostly because he knew he couldn't catch up, and partly because if the queen did return, he'd be able to catch her before she got too far. He hadn't more than thought the last word before she came crashing through the woods, her disguise melting away as she dashed up the stairs, mad glee spreading across her drawn face. Her mad jealousy had taken its toll on her but it mattered not to the wicked queen. She'd completed what she'd set out to do.

The two servants nodded to one another and split up, Valerie to wait for the others that were sure to follow and Tucker to make sure that the queen didn't leave the tower. The rain was pouring down in sheets now, and overhead the clouds began to rumble. This was sure to be a bad omen, but the kitchen boy paid it no heed for now. There would be time to worry about that later. He waited for the queen to vanish into the tower and sat below the window once again, listening to the sounds floating out the open window.

"At last! AT LAST!" she cried, twirling around and dancing through the room. She laughed harshly and sat down at the vanity table to groom herself before she once more asked the question that had driven her to madness to begin with.

"Looking-glass upon the wall, who in this land is the fairest of all?" she asked gleefully.

The looking glass sighed in a resigned fashion, and replied, "Thou, o queen, art the fairest of all."

She shrieked in her happiness, then pranced around her room once again. It made Tucker's blood boil, knowing how close Danny must have been to saving her, and knowing that when Danny returned, he was going to be far past irate.

"Say it again!" shouted the queen, who was sneering and laughing like a hyena.

The mirror sighed once more. "Thou, o queen, art the fairest of all."

She threw her head back and laughed again. It was true, she had completely lost her senses, Tucker could tell, and so she was probably quite dangerous. This unnerved him quite a bit, since by now she probably figured that she could kill anyone she wanted and get away with it.

"You! Where's the crazy hag?" demanded a man with scraggly hair and angry eyes. Tucker simply pointed up, seeing his two companions and their ghostly complexions. They vanished into the castle. The rain came down ever harder.

Not ten seconds after they vanished into the castle did Danny come crashing through the woods, his eyes blazing a fierce shade of green that unnerved Tucker more than the mad queen. He repeated his previous action, pointing up to the tower the queen occupied. The enraged prince vanished into the castle, leaving Tucker alone outside.

From the corner of his eye he saw Valerie approach, chewing her lip apprehensively. "You saw him too?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

She nodded mutely. "Does that usually happen when he's mad?" she asked quietly. Tucker only offered a shrug in response and led the way into the castle to escape the rain.

-x-0-x-

Danny bolted through the castle, evading servants and guests who were milling around the halls. The castle was a grand thing, and far too large for any single family to live in. Somehow, he didn't think any one man had a right to build something this large unless he put maps in each hall, lest some stray guest were to be lost in the labyrinth-like halls.

He found his way well enough, though, and dashed up the steps to the tower the wicked queen was dancing around. He paused outside the door, hearing commotion already coming from within and gritting his teeth as he pushed through into the room. Three ghosts already stood there, the ones that'd chased after the old hag after spotting her in the brush near the cottage.

"How could you do that, you wicked old hag!" snarled Ember, her hair aflame.

"We ought to throw you out that window right now!" growled Johnny, advancing on the queen.

But the queen didn't appear neither startled nor frightened. On the contrary, she looked rather entertained. A dark, sinister thing of a smile spread across her face and at last she spoke.

"I feel no remorse for the little rat! She deserved every bit of what she got!" she shouted, her eyes flashing dangerously. "She had no right!" She twirled around again, and her form once again changed so that she was nothing more than a great black fiend of a spirit with gleaming red eyes. "I AM the fairest of all! She had no right to change that!" she began to shriek, her hands becoming something like claws.

Some invisible force rose up and shoved around the room. Danny dashed behind the door at the last possible second, avoiding the same fate as the ghosts in the room. They were each forced from the room via the window, and it appeared rather painfully at that. He reemerged from behind the door, drawing the blade he carried at his waist.

Before he could strike the queen dashed for another window, shoving it open and clambering out onto the balcony. Danny followed close behind, jumping onto the balcony and looking around to see where the mad woman had gone. She'd climbed out onto the roof of the castle, attempting to escape the gleaming metal Danny was bound to skewer her with.

He followed close behind, trying to avoid slipping on the wet shingles as the water came down in buckets from above. A streak of lightening shocked past them, followed shortly after by a rumbling clap of thunder. It was dangerous, being up here so high in the middle of a storm, but Danny didn't care. That woman, who had just killed the girl he... he refused to admit it to himself, even now that she was gone, but the queen had to be stopped.

At length the evil the queen had turned into stopped, turning to stare the prince down with those gleaming red eyes.

"You hope to kill me, little prince?" she hissed, smiling wickedly. "Did you love that wretched little girl?" she taunted. Danny didn't give her a verbal response, instead opting to confront her head-on. He brought up the blade, but she backed away, ducking this way and that as she avoided the sharp metal edge.

All in one instant, the queen slowed for a fraction of a second, and the tip of the blade grazed her left arm. She howled out in pain, the lurched forward and belted Danny square in the jaw, sending him toppling down the roof and coming to rest on a higher balcony. She leaped down to finish what she'd started, her clawed hands outstretched to impale him directly in the chest.

He rolled away not a moment too soon and she smacked uselessly against the stone. She swiped at him once again, growling at him for evading her so easily. She caught him in the side, tearing easily through the fabric of his tunic and the top layer of flesh. Another claw swept across his chest, the trail of blood following after her extended claws. She drew back once more.

"No one shall ever surpass me! NO ONE!" she roared, and therein Danny found his opportunity. She rose her arms one last time to bring a devastating blow around his head and he thrust the blade forward, catching her in the belly. She stopped, her breath caught in her throat, then staggered back, sliding off the blade's tip and toppling over the edge of the balcony.

Her screams echoed for only a few moments as she plummeted to the earth, and then they ceased altogether.

The young prince dropped to one knee, panting with the effort he'd set forth, and then he began the treacherous climb back to the safety of the ground.

The rain had slowed, but only a little, just enough for him to find his way down from the towers and to the ground. He heaved a heavy sigh when he arrived nearly half an hour later, leaning heavily against the wall. Tucker attempted to persuade him to allow him to bandage Danny, but the young prince refused. Instead he started for the woods, followed by the three ghosts who'd quite recently returned to consciousness.

If anything, he wanted to say goodbye one last time.

-x-0-x-

She had been moved since he'd left. It was still raining, but that didn't stop the ghosts from laying her upon a bed of flowers in a small nearby clearing. She'd been settled inside a rather lovely glass coffin, which had been made by the Box Ghost, who'd remained true to his word. Her name was scribed on the glass lid in gold, and below that her status. Danny knelt down beside the coffin and covered his eyes for a moment, then stared into the fallen princess' face. She didn't appear to be dead...

Slowly, uncertainly, he pushed back the glass lid. He could feel the box ghost bristle with anger.

"Calm down... I just wanted to say... goodbye... one last time..." he choked, brushing her hair from her face and running one hand across her cheek. She was cold, far too cold, and it made his heart lurch.

"I'm sorry, Sam... I'm sorry I wasn't there in time to save you..." he murmured, looking into her lovely face so as to impress it upon his mind forever. "I never got to tell you... that... I l-love you, Sam..." he stammered, then slowly, carefully, pressed his warm lips to her cold ones.

It was then, all at once, that her flesh became warm and her chest began to rise and fall, causing Danny to jump in surprise. He looked down, seeing her eyes flutter open, staring into his crystal ones with innocent curiosity.

"D-Danny?" she said quietly. "What happened?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. He began to laugh, a relieved, happy, thrilled laugh and scooped her up in his arms.

"I'll explain on the way home," he murmured softly, then turned to the cheers of shouts of joy from the ghosts as they jumped with glee upon seeing the princess stir. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah... I'm okay." Her smile broadened as he carried her through the woods.

-x-0-x-

The king had returned to the castle only an hour after Danny had departed into the woods for the final time, and once he'd heard the news from both Valerie and Tucker, had broke down in a display of emotion at the news of his daughter's demise. It was not ten minutes later than the steward dashed into the room, his face flush red and a broad grin on his face.

"Your majesty! It's a bloody miracle!" he shouted, nearly dancing in place as he beckoned for them to follow him. They dashed after the antsy steward to the balcony that overlooked the woods and glanced down. Tucker felt his jaw hit the ground as he watched Danny emerge from the trees, carrying a smiling Samantha in his arms. The couple was greeted by the whoops and hollers of joy from the servants and the guests, and the king melted in a display of happiness.

Tucker, Valerie, and the heavily relieved King rushed down to greet them, barraging the pair with all numbers of questions. Danny chuckled to himself.

In celebration, the king threw a grand ball that night. The seven ghosts had been invited as well, and they attended gladly, congratulating the pair as they passed by. Sam thanked each of them graciously for their help and bowed to them all, and without warning, drew them all into a tight hug.

Danny slid up to her, his hands clasped behind his back and that half-smile on his face. "May I have this dance, milady?" he asked, offering her one hand and lowering into a bow. She smiled, offering him a curtsy and taking his hand in return.

"I would love to, good sir," she said and he led her out to the dance floor. They spun through the crowd, laughing and talking as they went. It'd been nearly three months since their last meeting, and he was just grateful to have her back alive.

At last the music slowed from bouncy and wild to slow and serene, and Danny pulled the lovely princess close to him. She lay her head gently on his shoulder, and then whispered into his ear, "Danny, did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" was his curious response.

"Did you mean what you said? Do you really love me?"

He smiled broadly, snaking a hand up into her hair and drawing back just a bit to study her face. "I meant every word. I love you Sam," he murmured, then leaned in and kissed her once again. Nothing had ever felt so right in all his life, and in that moment, he swore never to let her go again.

They danced on into the night, smiling happy, and remained as such forever more.


	2. The Merry Men of Revenant Forest

__**Clockwork's Book of Fairy Tales**

_Author's Notes: Thank you for the positive reception, it's very encouraging. Today, we'll be weaving through another fun story, this one inspired by folktales of the bitter struggle in the grand country of England between the men of the forest and the cruel Prince and his sheriff during the era of the Crusades._

* * *

The children cheered, and the master of time, whose form had shifted to that of a small child, smiled at their responses and gave them all a quick bow. "Now, who wants to go next? Let me see..." he said to himself, his age changing again the form of a muscular adult. His smile only broadened as he watched them all with their hands in the air, waving for him to choose the next story.

"Me! Pick me!"

"I wanna hear the one about the frog!"

"Cinderella! Tell Cinderella!"

"THE LITTLE MERMAID!"

"Alright children, calm down, you'll all get your turn," he said with a broad smile. "Let's see... how about a story filled with lots of adventure?" Mobieus asked, his eyes sweeping over him. He was greeted by a collective cry of approval, so he settled back into the armchair, stirred up the fire in the hearth, and tapped his chin as he decided just where to begin his story.

"Ah yes, I know. Now, settle in children, I'm going to tell you the tale of the prince of thieves and the lovely maiden who captured his heart."

* * *

**The Merry Men of Revenant Forest**

_There was a time, long ago, when the lovely land of Amity was a prosperous place, led by the steady hand of King Pariah the Lionheart. The people were happy, and for several years, the beautiful kingdom prospered. It was in this kingdom, in the province of Casper, that the Lord of the province, a kind man named Jackson Fenton of Casper and his lovely wife Maddison, bore into the world two wonderful children. The first was a girl, who's wit and charm was paralleled by none in the land. The second was a boy, who's strength and heart brought him renown across the country._

_It was only thirteen years after the birth of the young lad of Casper that the grand kingdom of Amity fell upon a war with a neighboring land. The King, along with many good men, went away to the war, and left the land in the charge of the King's brother, a conniving and repulsive young man by the name of Aragon, whose strings were pulled by the corrupt and wicked Sheriff of Phasma. Using his influence on the now-prince Aragon, the sheriff spread poverty and despair through the land by raising taxes to the breaking point and terrorizing the good people of Amity into silent, obedient compliance._

_For three tiresome years, everything went exactly as the sheriff had planned_, _until the day came when he tried to sway the Lord of Casper to his cause..._

"Ah, Lord Fenton of Casper! How nice it is to see you well," the sheriff chimed, smiling broadly as the large man walked from his manor. "Where is your wife and the children?"

"Maddie took Jasmine to the fair in Phasma and Daniel is off with Sir Manson for a bit of study with the blade," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "So, sheriff, what brings you to Casper?" Jack's eyes narrowed in suspicion as several more men arrived, each of them carrying blades and eying him intently.

"As you well know, the good king is away at war, and in his stead, the Prince John has been left behind to govern this fair land. The king has many flaws... we believe it best if, when he returns, he forfeit the throne to the good prince."

Jack was flabbergasted. "What you speak is treachery! How could you sneak behind our good king's back as such?"

"Jack, you have a choice, my friend. I do not wish to see Pariah harmed, but I can't make that happen without your help. You must join us."

"Vlad, have you heard yourself? This is treason! You cannot do it!" he barked, his eyes now bright with anger.

The sheriff simply clicked his tongue in admonishment and shook his head. "My poor, misguided friend. If you are not with us, then you are against us, and I do not spare my enemies."

Jack looked from Vlad to the armed men that surrounded him, his mind ticking. At long last he drew the blade from his side and thrust it into the air. "Long live King Pariah!" he shouted, and charged into the throng of men, happy that he was dying a loyal man.

-x-0-x-

_When the nobleman's wife and daughter returned, they found their home aflame, and laying on the ground, posed as the savior, was the Lord of Casper, all riddled with blade wounds. It was declared by the church that Lord Fenton of Casper had committed treason, and so his lands were forfeit to the Prince. As a result, the Lady Fenton of Casper and her daughter were forced to flee, finding shelter in a distant village that was far removed from the dealings of the wicked prince and his corrupt sheriff._

_The boy Fenton did not return home to his manor for over seven years, having been charged to the Lord Manson of Phasma as a pupil in the ways of the sword when he was but ten. The boy was to become a knight, and hadn't been home to Casper in quite a few years. The war had caught up with the Manson family, and so Daniel was sent away to war with the Lord of Phasma. It was there that he was knighted by King Pariah the Lionheart himself, and when he reached his eighteenth winter, he was at last allowed to come home. But the sad truth of his arrival was that he no longer had a home, as the sheriff and his men had seen to it that the manor was burned to the ground._

_And so the young nobleman's son turned away from his life of nobility and in turn wandered the land as a rove, until he one day stumbled upon the lovely forest of Revenant. And when he tried to pass, he was halted by a man and his rabble of followers. That man's name was Tucker Foley, and to cross the river Danny stood waist-deep in, he demanded that the young knight pay a tax._

_Rather than surrender the only possessions he had, which included the bow he'd grown so adept at wielding, the blade given to him by his king, and the pendant he received from his father, he bargained with Tucker and the men. They exchanged banter for quite some time, and at last, Foley agreed to fight the noble lad. In the end, Daniel succeeded and stayed with the men and women of Revenant forest, becoming one of them as the time passed. It was soon after that the wicked Sheriff of Phasma burned an entire village to the ground when its citizens refused to pay Prince Aragon's tax._

_Upon seeing this injustice to the poor of Amity, Danny vowed to make the greedy rich men of the land pay for what they had done to the country's poor. And so his crusade began, stealing gold from the rich to feed the poor while he and his aptly-named merry men made their home in the forest where the sheriff wouldn't find them. And after a time, the people began to love him._

"You sure this is gonna work, Dan? I mean, the sheriff already has it out for us, why steal more from him?" asked his dark-skinned companion. As they walked, Tucker was shimmying into a rather loose-fitting dress and donning a wig. "And why in specters are you going to steal from Prince Aragon himself?"

The young rogue merely smiled at his companion as he put the dark spectacles over his eyes and wrapped the tattered old cloak around himself. "Why not? He's rich and corrupt, why should he be exempt from our 'charity' work?" he asked in return, drawing up the deep hood of the cloak.

Tucker sighed, shaking his head as he clipped the false earrings to his ear lobes and wrapped the bandanna around his head. "One of these days they're gonna throw a noose around our necks. Pretty hard to laugh when you're dancing a gallows' jig." At that the other burst into laughter, eliciting a smile from his dark companion's face.

Down the road the sound of trumpets erupted as a caravan traveled up the dirt path towards where the young men stood, and suddenly the twinkle returned to Daniel's eyes. "That's our cue, ready to perform for royalty, mate?"

The smile broadened on Tucker's face. "It will be a grand performance," he said with a chuckle and drew from his bag a hollow crystal ball which they'd filled with fireflies the previous night. "I'll work my magic on the sheriff then and leave you to his royal pain in the highness?" he suggested with a smirk.

Daniel simply gave him a bow. "Aye, lady gypsy. Meet you in around thirty minutes?" he said with a wink, lowering the dark spectacles for a moment to flash his companion a wink and then vanishing off through the trees to the road beyond where the sounding of horns called to the pair of rogues. Tucker followed shortly after, smiling to himself as they prepared for their greatest job yet.

-x-0-x-

Vlad peered out the window of the carriage, his eyes narrowed as he looked around for any sign of those bandits he so desperately wanted to stretch. They were nowhere to be found, so he relaxed for a moment. Any time they passed the dark Revenant forest he grew apprehensive, knowing that at any moment, that wretched Daniel of the Hood and his obnoxious merry men would swing in and strip the carriage bare before the soldiers could blink.

"Fortunes! Lucky charms! Palm readings for all!" called a voice from the road.

"Fortunes? Oh how wonderfully droll. Stop the carriage," he called to the driver and opened the door. "Hello, madam. Fortunes, you say?"

She batted her lashes at him over the veil she wore over her mouth and nose. "You heard right, sir. Care to take a gander into the crystal ball to see what the fates have in store for ye?"

The sheriff stroked his chin, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "Alright, why don't you have a seat then."

The lady did as asked, and from her bag she drew a crystal ball that shined with an unearthly light. "Now, I want you to look deep, deep into the ball. Don't look away, or you might break the spell!" she warned, and began to swirl her hands around the orb as she chanted. "Spirits! I ask you to guide my hand and vision! Tell me what you see in this dashing man's future!"

Vlad smirked as he stared into the ball, his eyes glued to the fluttering lights.

-x-0-x-

Aragon leaned back in his cushy seat, counting the gold in the bags around him. A wicked grin was plastered to his face as he counted, the delightful sound of clinking metal the music to which he serenaded himself. It was in just the beat of his heart that the carriage stopped for no reason at all. Irritated, the usurper opened the door and stepped out of the carriage, looking up to the driver.

"Why in specters did you stop?" he snapped, his hands on his waist in an admonishing manner. The man blinked a few times.

"Your grace, there was a... a ghost and..."

"That's quite enough of that! You do not stop this carriage unless I command it! Is that clear?"

"Yes, your majesty..."

And with that, the prince turned back to his carriage, and felt his heart stop.

"MY GOLD! WHERE IS MY GOLD?" he roared, whirling around frantically as though he'd misplaced it. "You! Old man! Did you see anything?" he demanded.

"See? 'Fraid not, your majesty, what with me eyes as they are," the old man replied, adjusting the spectacles on the bridge of his nose. "Something wrong?"

The prince, who was now fuming, slammed his fist against the carriage, looking darkly at the forest beyond the road. "It was him, wasn't it?" he hissed to himself.

"Pardon me old ears, your grace, but who?" the old man inquired, tapping his stick on the ground in attempt to find his way to the carriage. The Prince shook his head in resignation, climbing irritably back into the carriage.

"That wretched Fenton... I'm going to have to arrange a date with the guillotine for that wicked man..." he grumbled, slamming his carriage door shut.

"Wicked man? Ye really think so? I don't know, I find him quite admirable, meself," the old man said, a smirk on his face. He lowered the glasses for a fraction of a second to wink one piercing blue eye at the prince, who was forced to do a double-take to make certain that he hadn't been seeing things. The prince stared at the old beggar for a long time, blinking in hopes that the strange vision would happen again.

"THIEVES!" came a scream from the rear of the caravan. All of the men turned towards the sound, only to see a woman fleeing the sheriff's carriage and followed by Vlad himself, who was screaming something fierce. "Stop that wench! Stop her THIS INSTANT!"

The woman smiled and batted her lashes at him before vanishing into the trees, tearing off the wig and shouting loudly, "Long Live Daniel of the Hood! And Long Live King Pariah!" then disappearing into the darkness.

"HOW DARE YOU?" snarled the prince as he tripped and fell from the carriage. "Sheriff, do something!"

With those words, Vlad drew his blade and rushed off into the woods, followed by the men surrounding his carriage.

The old beggar clicked his tongue softly and then turned, hobbling slowly into the woods.

It wasn't a moment after Aragon had stood once again that an arrow slammed into the side of the carriage, causing the prince to cry out in surprise and dive into the carriage. Attached to the arrow was a scroll, bearing words that made the prince shriek in anger and rip it to shreds.

_Thank you for your contribution to charity, your highness._

_The merry men of Revenant Forest appreciate your willingness to part with your gold._

_Long Live King Pariah!_

-x-0-x-

"I want his rewards posters torn down, and new ones put up in every town and village! I WANT HIS HEAD!" he screamed, smashing the bottle of wine over the steward's head.

"Now calm down, majesty," the sheriff said from across the room, his feet propped up on the table. "Raise the bounty on his head. The people will be sure to bring him in if he's worth enough."

The prince growled like a feral beast, then sank back into his chair irritably. "I don't want to just raise the bounty on his head, I want to kill him myself!" he hissed, folding his arms in a pout. They sat there for what seemed like hours, silent save for the ticking of the clock, until at last, the prince's eyes lit up like the sun and he slammed his fist on the table.

"That's it!"

Vlad snorted out of his nap and looked around quickly. "What's it?" he said through a yawn, scratching his chin.

"We shall lay a trap for the little wretch, one so clever he'll never know what hit him!"

"And just how do you plan to do this, majesty?" asked the sheriff skeptically, peering up at him from under the brim of his hat.

"It is quite simple, really," he said, standing and pacing before the hearth. "We hold a tournament. An archery tournament, and who so ever wins shall receive the trophy of the golden arrow. And... as added incentive, the prize shall be presented by none other than my cousin."

"An archery tournament? But if the thief does compete, not only will he win that prize, but he'll be disguised. No one has ever caught him!"

"That's precisely it, my dear sheriff. The boy cannot resist the temptation of showing off in front of my dear cousin."

"You mean the lady Samantha?"

"Yes. I heard from my Uncle the Lord Manson that the boy fancied his daughter, for a time, before he was sent away to the war. I am hoping those feelings are still in his heart. And when he arrives to collect his winnings, we snap the trap and kill him!"

The sheriff let out a dark chuckle. "My lord you are brilliant!" he said, raising a flagon of ale to the other man in a toast and drinking deeply from it.

-x-0-x-

"What's this you say about a contest, friar?" the rogue asked, leaning against a tree as he spoke.

The large beast simply smiled as he slurped his soup from the spoon. "This year's tournament of the golden arrow is being held in Phasma, Danny," he said, refilling the bowl and taking his place in the circle again. Around him sat the group that called themselves the merry men, a band of thieves that had made their homes in the forest away from the sheriff.

The woman beside him, who sported flaming blue hair and wild eyes, simply laughed through her soup. "Yeah, Danny could win that tournament with his eyes closed," she said, her comment greeted by the cheers and laughter of the other men. It was true that apart from Johnny and Tucker's wives (who didn't much count), she was the only woman amongst the men, but it didn't bother her much. The fact that they considered her skill rival to that any man was quite enough for her.

"Thank you, Lady Ember," Danny said with a bow and a chuckle. "You know, I doubt we're invited to this tournament. They wouldn't want to give the prize to the most wanted man in all of Amity, now would they?"

"Aye!" was the collective shout around the circle, followed by laughter.

"It's not like they could catch you, though," Tucker interjected, smiling. "I mean, you even lowered the glasses and the prince still didn't know it was you, after all."

"That, and he didn't see you steal all of the gold out of the carriage," said another man with large, curly red hair.

"Very true, Nathan."

"Did you bring home a box, this time?"asked another man, who floated as close as he could into Danny's face before the young knight laughed and pushed him away.

"Calm down there, boxy. We got a chest, this time, if that helps any."

The friar chuckled and set the empty bowl down, stretching and patting his belly. "I haven't told you the whole story, though, now listen up," he said with a smirk, seeing that he'd caught the attention of the merry men. "Now, the prize, as we all know, is an arrow of solid gold."

"Yeah, it is every year, how is that the best part?" asked a larger man, who appeared to be plated in metal from head to foot.

"Patience, Skulker, I'm getting to it. Now, usually the prize is presented by King Pariah, but this year, it's being presented by someone else in his stead."

"Who, his royal pain in the highness, the phony king?" snorted a wiry young man with large glasses who sounded as though he were speaking with his nose plugged.

"Or is it the 'honorable' sheriff of Phasma?" chimed the man beside him, who sat with an open book in his lap.

"Neither," the friar said, his eyes twinkling.

"Oh come now, tell us who it is Frost!" Danny said with a laugh.

"Alright, alright, don't get your britches in a twist, lad. The fair Lady Samantha Manson of Phasma will be presenting the prize to the winner."

The circle erupted with laughter as Danny's face lit up like the morning sun. "Lady Samantha? You're not messing with my head, are you friar?"

"The good Lord says that to lie is a sin lad," he said with a wink and stood. "I s'pose I ought to be getting back to the church, then. Bishop Showenhower will be wanting assistance with the evening mass, I'm sure," the friar said, getting slowly to his feet. Danny crossed the circle and clasped the friar's hand, offering him a smile and a nod.

"Thank you for your company and your ministry Friar Frostbite, and I look forward to 'seeing' you at the tournament," he said with a smile and a wink of one piercing blue eye before he sat with the other merry men in the circle.

"Aye, you will then. G'day, lads and lasses," he said with a chuckle and vanished through the trees.

"So, you planning to attend?" asked a young dark-skinned woman who was patting her stretched belly as she sat on a nearby stump.

"I was thinking about it," he returned with a wide grin, tossing another log on the fire. "I just don't know if the fair lady will even remember me."

"How could she not?" asked the man with the open book, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "After all, it's hard to forget the greatest archer of all, now isn't it?"

"Aye!" went around the circle again. Danny raised his hands for silent, his eyes twinkling as he laughed.

"Alright, alright, we're going to a tournament, lads!"

-x-0-x-

"Your name, sir?" asked the plump man at the table, holding a quill and a roll of parchment. Standing opposite him was a wiry young man, wearing a hood and bandanna like a mercenary. It wasn't uncommon at this particular tournament, since men came from all over Amity to compete for the golden arrow, and it was no surprise that mercenaries and soldiers competed as well as hunters and archers.

"Addon Eroe," he replied, folding his arms as he waited impatiently for the man to write his name down.

"And you hail from?"

"Fantasma."

"Very good, sir, you may go through the gate. You will be shooting at the fifth target. Good luck to you. Next!"

He nodded and passed through the gates, his eyes darting this way and that as he assessed the competition. He made his way to his assigned target, which was conveniently placed between two people he didn't like all too much. On his right, at number four, was the sheriff, Vlad, who was stringing his bow, and on his left, at number six, was the sheriff's cousin and right-hand man, Walker.

Chuckling quietly to himself, he sat down, setting to work stringing the longbow he'd toted in and glancing up at the sheriff, who was now eying him.

"You think you'll be able to draw that, boy?" he asked, snickering to himself.

"I think I'll manage," the younger man replied.

"Yeah, well don't get your hopes up, kid. Especially if that Daniel of the Hood shows up," Vlad muttered bitterly, drawing the string of his bow back to test its resistance.

"Daniel of the Hood? Now that would be an interesting sight!" he said excitedly, getting to his feet and pulling an arrow from the quiver on his back. "You don't think he'd show up with all these guards rounds about here?"

"Who knows, but if he does, we'll be ready," the sheriff replied irritably. Their conversation was cut short when a flurry of trumpets sounded, and contestants and spectators alike turned to watch the processional as Prince Aragon and the Lady Samantha entered with their entourage, sitting in the royal box at the base of the stadium. The young man's eyes lit up secretly as he watched the girl enter with her cousin.

Prince Aragon stood and held up his hands for silence, and after a few moments the loud chatter of the spectators died down to a soft murmur.

"My good people of Amity, I welcome you to the annual Tournament of the Golden Arrow!" he said loudly, raising his hands. His words were met with the cheers of the crowd, all of them waving flags and shouting for their bids.

"And now, let the tournament commence! Archers, take your places!"

Each of them stood, taking their places before their targets and nocking a single arrow to their bow strings. At their own paces they drew back the strings, holding them fast as they waited for the signal to fire.

The young man stared down the length of the arrow shaft, smiling to himself as his eyes flicked left and right to the men on either side, both of them squinting in concentration. They all stood waiting, the tension causing some of the contestants to shake. Out of the corner of his eye, he took note of the sheriff eying him curiously, an eyebrow quirked.

"Still holding alright?" the man asked, snickering once again.

"I'm managing fine," was the short reply.

"Fire at will!"

A volley of arrows flew across the field, some of them missing their targets completely. The young man loosed his arrow, lowering the bow in time to see the projectile strike the center of the target canvas. The roaring of cheers, whoops, and hollers pierced the air from around the stadium as men dashed out to the field to announce who would move on to the next round. The steward dashed up to the royal box, whispering in the prince's ear and then rushing off again.

"The following contestants will move on to the next round! Numbers one, four, five, six, thirteen, seventeen, twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty two, thirty three, and forty five, you shall move on to the next round!"

The remaining men moved off the field, grumbling, while the others prepared for the next volley.

"That's was a pretty good shot, kid," the sheriff mumbled, drawing an arrow from his own quiver. "You shot in a tournament before?"

The younger man just laughed. "Thank ya, sheriff. By my reckoning this would be my first tournament." He shrugged simply and leaned back in the chair in his section of the field. "Must be beginner's luck."

"Really? That's quite amazing, if I say so myself, what do you think, Walker?"

"Truly a marvel," the other said, shifting his weight as he stared darkly at his target across the field.

"Archers, take your positions!" the order came again, and the remaining men nocked their arrows and drew them back, awaiting the signal to fire.

"FIRE!"

Once again the arrows flew, striking their targets only moments after being loosed. Once again, he watched as the arrow struck the center of the target canvas. The bewildered look the sheriff gave him a heartbeat later elicited a laugh from him and he sat down again, twirling the bow around in his fingers.

"Lad, truly there must be some secret to your gift?"

He smiled behind the cloth that covered all but his eyes and shook his head. "No, good sheriff, as I said. Beginner's luck." With that he turned, passing by the royal box as he went for a scoop of water. As he passed, he turned his eyes up at the young woman sitting beside the prince.

"'Ello, your grace," he said, pausing and leaning against the box. "A pleasure to meet you... and you, my lady," he said with a bow, raising his eyes to meet hers.

She smiled, returning his bow. "A pleasure it is, archer," she replied. He flashed her the wink of one piercing blue orb and turned, striding across the field to his position once again.

Samantha watched as he walked away, feeling her heart flutter in her chest and a smile spread across her delicate face. "I wish you luck, archer," she called after him, and he turned for a moment to flash a smile and a wink at her before picking up the longbow and nocking an arrow.

The sheriff eyed him suspiciously and then shook his head, drawing his own arrow and waiting for the signal.

"Archers, take your positions!" sounded the call, and the five men remaining drew back their bows and waited.

Again his eyes flicked left and right, first to Walker, who appeared to be so nervous that his hands were shaking, and then to Vlad, who was eying him as well.

"FIRE!"

Five individual arrows shot across the field, striking their targets with a satisfying thud. A third time his arrow found the center of the target, and a third time he received bewildered looks from the men on either side of him. From behind he heard the cheers of the Lady, and he smiled to himself.

"My dear, it appears you favor the young man at target five," the Prince whispered to his cousin, who was cheering wildly.

"Yes, my lord. He's very talented," she replied coolly, smoothing her skirts absently.

"Indeed he is, cousin, indeed his is," he said, a dark smile creeping across his visage.

"In this fourth and last round, two finalists have been selected!" the steward shouted over the din of the stadium. "The first, number four, the honorable Sheriff of Phasma, Vladimir Masters!"

Cheers erupted from a section of the stands, while around the rest there was simply the buzz of conversation.

"The second, a young first-timer to the arena, Addon Eroe of Fantasma!"

More cheers erupted from the stands, louder than before, and he spotted a few friendly faces amongst the crowd.

"Gentlemen, take up your positions!" called the steward once again.

"May the best man win," the sheriff said with a wicked grin, while beside him the boy simply chuckled.

"Aye, good luck then," he replied and sighted down the arrow.

The entire stadium fell silent, the tension almost palpable as they awaited the final signal. Whispers raced around the stands as those who had placed bids chattered of who they believed would win.

"Each man shall shoot at the same target. The man closest to the center of the bullseye shall be declared winner of this tournament!"

The boy tightened his grip on the bow for a moment and then took a breath, glancing sideways at the sheriff again. He was staring at the target as though visualizing the shot. He chuckled, causing the sheriff to cast a glare at him.

"FIRE!"

Vlad's arrow shot off first, striking the target with deadly precision. The masked boy's arrow flashed off next, striking the target as it had for three volleys before and tore the sheriff's arrow right up the center. He couldn't help but laugh at the gaping sheriff's face as the crowd behind them went wild. He tossed his bow up and caught it, his eyes laughing.

"Well, lad, it appears as though your 'beginner's luck' has just won you your first tournament. Congratulations," the sheriff said stiffly, extending his hand for the other to shake.

The boy took it, nodding. "Appears so, doesn't it?" he replied with a wink and turned to walk to the royal box once again.

"My lad I commend you for your apparent skill," the prince said, getting to his feet as he neared the box. "You bested the good sheriff, a feat not easily done. My Lady, the prize, if you will."

She stood gracefully and crossed to the edge of the box, where she held the prize out on a pillow of lavender velvet. "My congratulations, archer," she said with a half-smile, offering him a curtsy and a nod. Beside her, the prince looked on, a look of thinly-veiled loathing upon his face, a look that went unknown to the lad and lady beside him, as they seemingly had eyes for no one else.

The prince held his hand out to the young man with a smile, which the boy took. All in one swift movement the prince jerked him forward, swiping his long fingers across the other's face and tearing the cloth from his face.

"We meet at last, Daniel of the Hood," he growled, snapping his fingers for the guards.

"That's _Sir_ Daniel Fenton of Casper, son of the man your sheriff murdered," Danny snapped, jerking as guards roped his hands behind his back.

"Your father was a traitor to his king and his country-"

"His King? That throne belongs to King Pariah!"

"SILENCE!"

"Long live King Pariah!"

"ENOUGH! I will not have this treachery in my kingdom! Executioner, bring me your ax!" he roared, stepping down from the royal box and grabbing the front of Danny's tunic. "I will have the satisfaction of taking your head as my trophy," he hissed through his teeth.

His response was a half-smile, and the flicking of his piercing eyes left and right for a heartbeat. "If you can, your highness," he said softly. Danny's eyes fell on the Lady behind the false king, and he flashed her a grin that made her heart flutter in her chest. The prince grabbed the ax and forced the rogue to his knees, raising the weapon over his head. Samantha covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes locked with his as she tried to beg him to plead for his life.

"Any last words, Fenton?"

He thought for a moment, then smiled broadly. "Just one, your grace," he said softly, then roared, "NOW!"

The moment he'd uttered the word, arrows began to fly, striking the guards on either side of him that held him fast and one just grazing the sheriff's left cheek.  
A shrill cry of terror erupted from the prince's throat and he flung himself to the ground, shouting, "Kill them! Stop them! PROTECT YOUR KING!" as loud as his lungs would permit. Beyond the field, rioting erupted as the guards attempted to discover the source of who'd ever fired the shots, but every time they believed themselves close, it would simply be another peasant.

The chaos that ensued was utter madness, peasants scrambling here and there, soldiers fighting amongst themselves. Danny dropped nearly to his belly, lifting his hands up for a fraction of a second as one stray swipe of a blade rushed over his head, severing the ropes enough for him to rip what was left.

"You've stirred up quite the hornet's nest this time, Danny."

"They won't miss us, what do ya say to getting out of here, Tuck?"

"No, they won't, not until they realize they've failed to kill you for the tenth time this year."

Tucker's comment was greeted with a grin. Danny turned, forcing his way through the rioting and wheeling around to stand behind Samantha. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder, and whispered, "I'll return for you, I swear it."

But when she turned to face him, he was gone.

-x-0-x-

"My lady, your head is in the clouds again!"

"I know... I'm sorry Star, it's just..."

"You love him, don't you Sam?"

"Love him? That's absurd!"

Star giggled, lacing up Samantha's bodice as she did. "It's in your eyes, Sam, there's no denying it. Besides, it's not as though he's a brigand."

"No, he's an outlaw bandit with a hefty sum on his head."

"Yes, that's true. You know, some day, the good King Pariah may have an outlaw for an in-law!"

The pair of them burst out laughing. "I... I do hope so... but does he love me?"

"I'm sure he does, my lady. After all, why else would he risk capture and execution simply to show off for you? Ah, there we are, all finished." She stood back to admire her work. The dress was quite lovely, made of lavender silk with black velvet trim, and cream lace along the bodice. Her hair had been done as well, lavender lace woven through on either side and half was pinned behind her head, while the rest of it cascaded in ebony waves down her back.

Sam stood from the vanity table, crossing the room to lean against the ledge of the open window. "Do you really think he'll come back for me?"

The other giggled as she put the brushes and pins away. "I do, Sam. I believe he'll scale that castle wall, climb up to the window, sweep you off your feet, and carry you off into the sunset."

Sam scoffed at her, shaking her head. "I don't believe in fairy tale endings, Star. Not in these dark times. But still... I can't help but cling to hope..."

"He'll come for you, don't worry. That rogue of yours is full of surprises."

-x-0-x-

"Lads and lasses, it looks like we got ourselves a golden arrow!" Tucker shouted, holding the prize above his head to the roars and cheers of the others that sat around the fire. "This calls for a celebration!" The moment the words left his mouth the others scrambled up, snatching up anything they could play to strike up a tune. The music drifted through the air, a bouncy tune featuring a pipe as the lead melody that made all who listened want to get up on their feet.

Nearby, Danny watched on in amusement, leaning against a tree with his arms folded, a dreamy look upon his face as he stared up at the sky above.

"Hey loverboy, why don't you join the party?" came a rather feminine voice from behind him. "Looks like you've got your mind on something other than victory, eh?"

He flashed her a smile. "How can ya tell, Ember?"

She stood beside him a moment, staring up at the stars as well. "Just a guess by the far-off look you've got." She glanced at him. "Listen, just go and get your lady fair, already. She's waiting for you, I'm sure, and I know that your reserved nature will prevent you from any serious festivities if your lady friend isn't around. Go to her, Danny. I'll cover for you."

Danny gave her another winning smile and pushed off from the tree, strapping his bow and quiver to his back. "Thank you, Ember."

"Oh, by the way, Daniel of the Hood," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Try not to get yourself nearly killed this time, alright?"

"Sure thing," he replied, mounting the black mare he'd stolen from the sheriff nearly six months before, drawing up the deep hood of his tunic, and riding out of the woods.

-x-0-x-

The tapping of something small on the window panes caused her to jerk upright, a dagger in hand as she startled from her sleep. She crept to the window, peering down to see a dark, hooded figure in the garden below. The shadow vanished into the bushes, and her eyes narrowed as she considered what might happen if that shadow were to get into the castle. Quietly she moved through the shadows like a breeze on the night, stepping out into the gardens to listen for the sounds of breathing.

A hand grabbed her shoulder and whirled her around, and she found herself staring into a pair of startling blue eyes.

"Danny!" she hissed, hitting him playfully in the shoulder. "You nearly scared me into a heart attack!"

He laughed quietly, pulling down the hood. "Sorry, couldn't help myself," he whispered, then led her farther into the garden.

"You took a terrible risk coming here, you know. If the prince of the sheriff find you here, they won't hesitate to run you through, and I certainly don't want to clean up your mess, Fenton," she said, shaking her head. Once again, he gave her the smile that made her heart flutter and she punched his arm playfully. "I'm being serious, Danny!"

"So am I," he whispered, turning to face her. "I had to see you, Sam."

"You could have come sooner, rather than later, you know, disappearing for five years and then suddenly popping up at an archery tournament as Daniel of the Hood! Danny, do have any idea how much trouble you're in? Do you know what will happen to you when my cousin the prince or his thick-headed sheriff will do when they find you or your camp? They'll raze Revenant forest, and then they won't just hang you. They'll torture you! Publicly, to boot."

"Then let's hope they don't catch me before King Pariah returns." They walked on in silence for several long minutes, passing by the rose bushes and a great marble fountain carved of mythical creatures. Sam sat on the edge of the fountain, spreading out her skirts. Danny sat beside her, placing his quiver and bow on the ground at his feet. "Listen, Sam-"

"Why? You rushed off to war and glory, and then you come back and you're nothing more than a common thief! You left me here-"

He pressed a finger to her lips to silence her. "Sam, I didn't have much choice in the matter. I was only fourteen." He brushed his hand against her cheek, admiring the way the moonlight made her pale skin appear as molten silver. "I didn't intend to leave you, I swear that on my blood."

She cupped his hand in hers and closed her eyes, releasing a deep sigh. "You've grown up, Danny."

He flashed her the grin that made her legs feel like melted wax. "So have you..."

"Why do you do it? Why do you steal all of that money from people? You were noble once, surely you don't need-"

Again he silenced her with his hand. "I don't keep it, you know. I never keep it, because it's not mine to keep. I give it away, to those who need it more than I do, to the poor and starving and helpless of Amity because no one else will help them. And because I defy Prince John and the Sheriff, they brand me as a brigand, a murderer, and a coward. Did you wonder why, if I am spotted so frequently in the villages, that the peasants did not just overwhelm me and collect the reward?"

She searched his eyes with hers, looking for any sign of lies or deception in their crystal depths. She found none, and shook her head. "I'm sorry Danny... I just didn't know... amongst the noble of Amity who still keep their lands, the others believe that you will kill them and take their money, and wives and children," she whispered.

"I don't care what they believe, Sam, I only care about two things in this world," he breathed. "I care that justice is given to those who deserve it, be they rich, poor, fat, thin, black, white, pink or bloody purple. Everyone deserves justice, no matter if one man has to lose a little money so that another may eat for a week."

She felt a smile creep across her fair visage. "And what's the other thing you care about?"

"Well, you ought to know that already. After all, I was nearly killed for this 'other' care that I have," he whispered to her, then leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers.

"Samantha!" echoed the voice of the prince across the grounds. Danny drew back a few inches, looking the girl straight in the eye.

"You know the prince won't be happy with you if he catches you in the willing company of an outlaw."

"I know..."

He got to his feet, extending his hand to her and pulling her up off the edge of the fountain. She leaned in again, pressing her forehead against his. "Will you come back?"

"Yes, I will. Someday soon, I'll come back for you, I swear it on my blood," he whispered, giving her one more gentle kiss before drawing up the hood of his tunic and vanishing over the wall of the garden.

"Samantha! Ah, there you are, cousin. I was beginning to worry. Is everything alright?"

"Yes, perfectly, your grace. I was just feeling warm and decided to go for some air."

-x-0-x-

"Good evening, Friar Frostbite," the Bishop said as he entered the church. The friar turned to face him and greeted him with a smile and a bow.

"Evening, your grace. What brings you to the church at so late an hour?"

Something behind the bishop's smile made the friar uneasy as they spoke, almost like a set of wicked wheels were turning. "I'm here with a friend, actually, friar. I'm sure you know the sheriff?"

From behind the bishop stepped Vlad, a smirk on his face. "Evening, friar. Just here to do my job. And what have we here?" he said with a dark smile, opening a wooden box near the confessional. "More taxes, I think."

"Now hold on just a minute, sheriff! That's the poor box! You can't take out of the poor box!" the friar said, outraged.

The sheriff clicked his tongue in admonishment. "Ah, not true, my good friar. Bishop Showenhower has approved the use of the poor box to help with the collection of taxes for poor Prince Aragon."

"Oh he did, did he?" he growled, narrowing his eyes at the bishop.

"It is in the best interest of the church and her followers," the bishop said, moving his eyes away from the friar and turning to walk away with the sheriff after he'd emptied the poor box into the velvet coin purse at his waist.

"I'll be back soon, friar. The prince thanks you for your contribution. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to the homeless shelter down the road."

-x-0-x-

"He WHAT!" the men roared collectively, fury glistening in each of their eyes as they listened to the friar tell his story around the fire.

"Aye, and he intended to return for whatever was in the box later, and then he left to go and take from the homeless shelter!"

"That despicable wretch..." Tucker growled, slamming his fist against the tree. "When Danny hears about this-"

"When I hear about what?" their leader asked as he dismounted his horse. He lowered the hood of his tunic and sat down on a stump beside Tucker.

"Danny, you have to do something to stop this! The sheriff and the prince have gone too far, this time!" Ember said, the outrage apparent in her voice.

"Alright, calm down, what happened?"

"They've begun taking their taxes out of the poor box in the church and from the homeless shelter, as though they could tax them like they do the peasants," Tucker growled.

Danny's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Friar, is this true?"

The large white beast nodded. "Aye, lad, it's true. He took everything out of the poor box, and then moved on to the shelter to steal more yet, and that's not the worst of it. The bishop himself told him he could do it, to take the money as a contribution of the church!"

The rogue stared at the ground for several long minutes, turning the matter over in his head. "Well, then damn it we're going to take it back."

The roaring of cheers met his words. "AYE!" they all shouted, thrusting a fist into the air.

"And it's high time we had another go at the sheriff's vault, don't you think?" he said, picking up a stick and drawing a map in the dirt. "Alright lads and lasses, listen close, because here's what we're going to do. Tucker, you'll take up position here..."

-x-0-x-

The old beggar man tapped his walking stick against the ground as he wove his way through the crowded streets of Phasma. It was a busy day, and that was what he was counting on. All of those people would help to mask the presence of him and his men. A young woman walked beside him, with fiery blue hair and holding his arm as they walked. Behind them was a dark-skinned peasant woman with a swollen belly and carrying a basket of clothes.

Up on the wall was a soldier with glasses and pitch-black hair, who's eyes were wilder than the other young merchant man with glasses, who sounded as though he were speaking with his nose plugged. Off near the exit was a hunter, plated head to toe in metal, selling meat to the butcher.

A pair of nobles approached the castle, the man and woman both with fierce green eyes. The man had straw-like hair and pale skin, while the woman beside him had curly blond hair and fair skin. They entered with two escorts, the first a man with brilliant white hair and tan skin whose accent didn't appear to originate in Amity, and the second being a round man with blue-tinted skin. They walked with a boy that appeared to be their son, a lad with a hook for a hand and fair hair and skin like his mother.

The nobles were greeted by the prince, who led them into Phasma castle and spoke to them in hushed whispers. "Greets, Lord and Lady Therten, won't you come in? There is much we need to discuss."

The pair of them nodded, then followed the prince into the castle.

The moment they vanished into the stone building, a fight erupted within the market, between a merchant with large, curly red hair and two other men, one of them who appeared to be a nobleman with gold spectacles and chestnut hair, and his companion, a dark-skinned man wearing a turban and colorful robes.

"You haven't paid me for those goods!" the merchant roared, a dagger at the neck of the nobleman.

"He did pay for it, you senile fool!" snapped the dark man, drawing a larger blade in a threatening manner. Right on cue, the sheriff arrived, pushing the fighting men apart.

"Alright, what's going on here?" he demanded.

As the argument wore on, the old blind beggar and the young woman that helped him ducked into the crowd, slipping into the castle by way of the rear entrance and weaving through the corridors.

"Here we are," the man whispered when they arrived at their destination, pulling off the cloak and glasses as they opened the doors to the royal treasury. Shouting from the upper levels had caused the guards to rush off with their weapons drawn, leaving the gold unguarded. "Let's get this out of here, then, shall we?"

"With pleasure," his companion said, loading the gold into bags. Below the window, the dark-skinned peasant woman had parked a cart of hay, sitting at the front holding the reins of the horses. One by one, bags began to drop into the cart from the window, unnoticed by anyone but the cart's driver. A smile crept across her face as she waited for the signal to go.

"Alright, last bag," the rogue whispered as he dropped it into the cart and gave a short six-note whistle. The woman below snapped the reins, and the horses pulled out, taking her through the market and out into the fields beyond. The moment the cart had left through the gate, the fighting ceased between the merchant, the noble and his companion, and the sheriff.

"My, look at the time, we really must be going. Thank you for your help, sheriff, we'll be off now," the nobleman said, he and his friend mounting their rides and galloping out of the market.

The sheriff stared after them, somewhat perplexed, and when he turned back to the merchant, he too was gone.

"What in specters!"

Behind him, the noble, his wife, their son, and the escorts rushed out of the castle. "Prince Aragon, if you cannot even keep your money inside your own castle, I'll certainly not trust mine to you! Good day to you, your highness," he said, and the five of them stepped into the carriage and were gone.

"Wait, Lord Therten!" the prince called, running out and down the steps, where he watched them ride off. "I hate that wretched thief..." he snarled, turning just in time to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes.

"Do ya? I'm hurt, your highness," he said, chuckling, and ducking as the prince took a swing at him. "I was beginning to think that maybe we'd be friends. Oh well, a bad friend lost is no loss at all, then. Oh," he added, stepping to the side as he took another swing, "I'll be taking this, as well. Since the king is returning home soon, you won't be needing it for much longer, and this lovely piece will fetch enough gold to feed an entire family for two months."

The prince shrieked in anger as the crown was taken right off his head, and by the time he drew his sword to run the other through, he was gone.

-x-0-x-

Three weeks passed since the sheriff's treasury had been emptied, and every day the bounty on Danny's head went up by another thousand gold pieces. Vlad paced his chambers, steam nearly pouring out his ears in anger as he went over and over in his mind how he'd been robbed of so much gold by a boy, and the son of his greatest enemy, no less. He turned and punched the wall, denting it as his eyes flashed to red.

"This is RIDICULOUS! How in the hell does that little whelp keep getting into this castle without anyone seeing him? It's just not possible!" He punched the wall again, causing some of the stone to crack and fall away, and as he stared at it, the wheels in his mind began to turn. When something was weakened, it was easier to break, just as the stones in the wall weakened and broke with each strike. If the same was true for men, then what would it take to weaken the prince of all thieves? What was so linked to his heart that, if taken away, would cause the walls of his heart to crumble and fall?

The sheriff stormed from his room and into the prince's chamber, where he leaned against the desk the false monarch sat behind and said, "You said before that the boy fancies your cousin?" he asked quickly.

The prince stared at him a moment, bewildered. "Yes, why do you ask, sheriff?"

A wicked grin crept across Vlad's face. "Well, I was doing just a bit of thinking, and I realized that when something is weakened, it's easier to break. Since the boy is so in love with your cousin, wouldn't it make sense to take that away from him, and make him vulnerable? Then we could torture him and make sure that the public is there to witness what happens when you defy the law."

The prince began to laugh, one of pure ecstasy. "I love it! I truly love it!" he said gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And how did you intend to take his beloved away?"

"That is the most brilliant of all torture, to take away the woman he loves and force her to wed a man he hates with all his heart."

"Brilliant... did you have anyone in mind?"

Vlad's sneer widened. "I was actually considering myself for the position, as I can control the fiery streak in the girl and tame her into a domestic housewife. And we would announce it before the public, and Fenton, so that his spirit will break and we can take him once and for all!"

"Yes! Then we have a plan," the prince said, standing. "We will drive him out of that terrible forest, make him come to us... if we take some of his men, he will have no choice but to come and rescue them. There, before the hangings, we shall announce your betrothal to all, and make certain he knows before we hang all of his merry men! It's brilliant! Have Walker go to Manson Castle, " He rushed to the door, shouting to the nearest guard, "You! Call together a hundred soldiers to march on Revenant forest at dawn! We shall have a grand bonfire at daybreak!"

-x-0-x-

Danny drew back slightly, running one hand through Sam's hair as they sat together by the fountain. "Come with me, Sam," he whispered, cupping her cheek in his hand. "Come back with me to the forest, join my gang. Specters know, you can fight as well as any man in my gang."

She smiled sadly, pressing her lips to his for a moment. "I want to... and I wish right now that we could just ride off together... but you and I both know that we must bide our time, and wait for my cousin to return from the war," she whispered into his ear, then nuzzled her head under his chin.

"I know..." he returned, kissing her forehead softly.

The sounds of pounding on the front doors echoed out into the garden, and soon the early sounds of a fight were carried through the manor. Sam placed a hand on Danny's arm before he'd been able to nock an arrow to the bow and shook her head. "Danny, you must go. If they find you here, we both know what will happen, and I'd rather not have to watch them hang you before Pariah returns," she whispered, cupping a hand over his mouth to prevent him from arguing. "Danny do this for me!"

He searched her eyes for several long moments and then, at last, nodded. "Alright," he whispered, drawing her into one last embrace, pressing his lips to hers to try and pour all of his feelings in that one kiss, and then pulling away, drawing up the hood of his tunic, and starting for the wall. "Just promise me you'll try and keep out of trouble."

"I promise," she whispered through the darkness. "Go!" He vanished over the wall and she turned, almost afraid to know who'd intruded on her home at such a late hour. She peered in through the door, and the moment she did, the castle fell silent. She chewed her lip nervously, almost considering dashing back out into the gardens and waiting there for Danny's return the next night, but she braced herself and entered, drawing the dagger from her boot and peering carefully around each corner.

When she came to the main hall, she found nothing, and allowed herself a small sigh of relief, turning to walk back to the kitchens and finding herself face-to-face with the snowy-white pallor of Walker, who forced his hand over her mouth and firmly grabbed her arm. From behind another man arrived, shackling her hands.

"It's about time you were finished with your treasonous activities, consorting with outlaws and such. The sheriff has ordered me to take you into protective custody, and apparently, he was right to insist upon it."

The started pulling her through the door, where she saw Star had already been tied up and shoved up onto a horse.

"Protection from whom?" she asked irritably, trying to impede their movements by forcing the heels of her boots into the dirt.

"Why, my lady, protection from yourself. You see, the sheriff knows that the penalty for consorting with criminals is death, and he is only working in your best interest. After all, what would the king think if his cousin was hanged for being foolish?" he replied, laughing darkly. "But that isn't the only reason he bid me to fetch you, my lady. He and Prince John have something they'd like to show you."

With one final push she was forced onto the horse, and was led away from her home towards the forest.

-x-0-x-

Danny dismounted the mare, taking the bridle and saddle off her and letting her roam the forest to graze, knowing she'd be back soon as she always was. She trotted off, and he turned and made his way back to camp. The others were there waiting for him, sitting around the fire and laughing as they told stories.

"There he is!" shouted Mikey, tossing their leader a sweet-roll. "It's about time you showed up!"

"Oh give him a break, he was off wooing his lady friend," supplied Gregor, who busted up laughing along with the others around the fire.

Ember simply rolled her eyes. "Oh be quiet, you gits," she said and tossed a handful of leaves at them. They all roared with laughter, and even their reserved leader found himself laughing with them.

Skulker paused a moment, furrowing his brows as he listened hard for that sound again, and then sniffed the air. "Smoke..." he murmured, getting to his feet. An arrow whizzed by his face by naught but an inch, striking the tree behind him and sending flames licking at the trunk. "Fire! They're burning us out!" he shouted, dashing to claim his sword. He hadn't finished uttering the final syllable when men burst through the trees, swinging swords, axes, and knives at the group.

They all scrambled to their feet, dashing out of the way of fatal blows and flaming arrows as they flew overhead and struck the trees.

"I want prisoners!" called a voice through the trees, a voice that Danny recognized as Vlad's and it made his blood boil. Smoke was wafting through the forest, making him choke and his eyes water.

"Lads! Deeper in!" he called through the din, taking up his bow and nocking an arrow. One after the other the arrows flew, striking his targets and sending them down. He couldn't kill them, nor would he, but he had to stop them from firing on his men, and if that meant hurting them, then by specters he would.

Something exploded nearby, sending debris raining down on everyone in the forest. Danny dashed across the ground, sliding to halt in a kneeling position and firing off several more arrows. "GO!" he bellowed at the others. Tucker scooped up his lady companion and sprinted off into the trees, while behind them Johnny was pushing Kitty farther into the forest.

"Go, I will follow!" he shouted after her, pushing her to run. She did as told, looking back in time to watch him become overrun with soldiers. A bag was thrust over his head, shackles forced onto his wrists, and he was dragged off.

"FATHER!" Youngblood screamed, tackling the guards dragging Johnny. He was forced to the ground, shackled like his father and bagged.

From without, Samantha watched, feeling a single tear roll down her cheek. The shouts of the merry men carried out to the edge of the forest where the sheriff, the prince, and their men watched and waited. The sheriff was laughing wickedly, while the prince watched with bemused interest beside him.

"One more volley, I think should do it," he said, giving the signal for the archers to loose their arrows. Fire sailed through the air, striking the trees and engulfing them in flame. She saw, from within the forest, something exploded, raining hellish debris down on the merry men and obscuring everything with thick black smoke.

"Danny..." she whispered, staring into the bright orange of the fire. Soldier's emerged, dragging behind them three men and a child. They were each bound and gagged, pulled along through the dirt and debris and then thrown at the feet of the prince.

"Good, good, we have our prisoners. Bring them along, we'll prepare the gallows for tomorrow at high noon."

-x-0-x-

"Danny!" Tucker called, picking his way through fallen trees and charred wood. Valerie walked carefully behind him, looking around.

The rain had put out the fire only two hours before, and much of this part of the forest was still smoldering. The water still came down, drenching them as they tried to make their way back and see if any others had survived. So far, their hopes were being dashed with every passing moment of silence.

"Do you think he made it out?" Valerie whispered, climbing over one particularly large trunk and sitting down to rest, one hand on her belly.

"I don't know, it looks grim to me," Tucker replied wearily, sitting down next to his wife and placing one of his hands on hers.

CRACK! echoed through the forest, and immediately he jumped to his feet, unsheathing his blade. "Who goes there?" he called into the woods.

"Lower that bloody blade would you and help me out!" called a familiar voice. Tucker felt the knot in his chest ease slightly as he rushed to assist his trapped comrade.

"You're lucky this was just a sapling, Nathan, or it might've had your name on it," he said gruffly, shoving the small tree off of Nathan's lap. "Seen any of the others?"

"Nay, just you, otherwise I might not have been trapped down there."

More rustling drifted through the trees. "Who goes there!" called the pair in unison, both drawing weapons as they prepared for attack.

"Don't get your britches in a twist, it's just me!" came Skulker's husky voice. "And I've got three of the lads with me. Ember, Kitty, and G.W."

Tucker heaved a sigh of relief and rushed over to greet them. "No sign of Danny, Johnny, or Dex?"

"Nay, nor Box, Mikey, Gregor, or the kid," Skulker said wearily, plopping down on a burnt stump and running one hand through his flaming hair.

"BEWARE!" ripped through the silence, and from out of the bushes Box and Poindexter stumbled.

"Don't do that!" Tucker snapped, shaking Box by the front of his shirt. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Tucker! Tucker, they took 'em!" Poindexter said urgently, yanking on his sleeve. "The soldiers nabbed four of us and dragged them out of the woods."

"Who'd they take?" he asked quickly.

"Well, Johnny and Youngblood are both gone, and I didn't catch who the last two were," he said, pushing his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. "Who're we missing?"

Tucker glanced around. "Johnny and Youngblood are obviously taken, and we're still missing Mikey, Gregor, and Danny."

Dex chewed his lip apprehensively, trying to remember what'd happened after the tree had exploded from all the heat. It had been next to impossible to see anything with all the black smoke that'd followed the flames.

"Lads! Over here!" sounded the rumbling voice of the friar, who was supporting an injured Danny as they moved through the fallen trees. "Found him beneath what was left of the trysting tree," he said, helping the rogue to sit on a log and rest. "What in specters happened here?"

"We were ambushed," Tucker said, sheathing his blade and sitting beside his friend and leader. "Around a hundred soldiers, and the sheriff and the prince were commanding them. I think this was supposed to be a sign to us."

Danny shook his head, leaning back against another fallen tree. "No, this wasn't a sign, it was intended to kill some of us," he said quietly. "How many did they take?"

"Four," Dex said, clearing a spot on the ground to sit and settling in. "And if I know them, they'll hang them today at high noon."

He nodded, looking around at them all. "What time is it?"

Ember glanced up at the sky. "Not three hours after sunrise. We still have four more hours until they hang them, we should do something."

There was silence after her words, Danny looking from each face to the next, reading their eyes. "Aye, we are going to do something," he said at last, scooting forward off the stump and crouching down beside Dex. "Gather 'round, lads and lasses, this is what we're gonna do. Friar, you'll be here by the scaffold," he said, picking up a stick and drawing a map of Phasma's town square. "Tuck, you'll take position here..."

-x-0-x-

"Hey, watch that damned stick you old fool!" the guard snarled, kicking him.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to... I stumble 'round because of me blindness... I'm sorry sir..." the old man mumbled, tapping his stick against the ground as he hobbled away. He made his way into the square, a woman appearing from nowhere wearing a rag over her head and tattered peasant's clothes and taking his arm to guide him up the stairs to the city wall.

"Make way!" the friar called through the crowd, pushing past them and up to the scaffold. "Make way for the lord's work, so that we may beg for forgiveness for these poor men who're about to meet their maker," he said, continuing with his holy rantings as he did so.

A soldier escorting a young woman up on the wall paused to stand and watch, peering around the crowd for familiar faces. The woman behind him dropped a basket of clothing, drawing from it a pair of bows, one of which she handed to her companion and the other she strung herself.

Below them, hiding within one of the stalls, a peasant man with pale almost blue skin sat, peering over the counter of the stall at the gallows up before him.

Two more soldiers took up positions at the entrance to the square, the first plated in armor from head to toe, the other a young man with large curly red hair. A gypsy man stood just beyond the gates, warning those who entered of the dangers in their futures. He adjusted his spectacles on the bridge of his nose, pausing his ramblings a moment to make eye contact with one of the stationed guards and give the man a nod.

Standing behind one of the stalls was a young man with a bandaged leg, leaning on a staff. He pushed the spectacles up the bridge of his nose, watching the scaffold from a distance.

High up on the platform beside the wall stood the prince, and behind him was the sheriff and a shackled Samantha, who watched on in disgust. The peasants had all gathered, jeering and throwing bits of food and rocks at the prisoners while the guards dragged them up to the gallows. The prince held his hands up for silence and the people all turned to look as he spoke.

"My dear citizens of Amity, these men at the gallows are enemies of the kingdom and of the king! They are in league with a traitor to the State, and so they must be punished, to set an example to all those who would defy the king!" he called out, giving the guards the signal. The drum roll began, and at the front of the crowd, tears were streaming down Kitty's face as she watched the noose put around the neck of first her son, and then her husband.

The beggar pulled down his hood and threw away the dark spectacles, opening the top of his walking stick and withdrawing from it a longbow. The girl beside him pulled a bow from beneath her skirts and the pair threw down their cloaks, revealing quivers of arrows strapped to their backs.

"Ember, position yourself at the stairs and cover me if something should happen," Danny whispered, moving off to the far side of the wall and dropping to one knee.

"Before we proceed with these hangings, I would like to make a very special announcement!" the prince said suddenly, and the drum roll died to a dim buzzing. "I would like to inform the public that I've granted the honorable Sheriff of Phasma, in the absence of her father, my dear cousin Samantha's hand in marriage! May this happy couple share many years together."

The crowd clapped, and all at once, eight pairs of eyes snapped up to anticipate the reaction of their leader. Danny had gone pale, his throat dry, and his body rigid. Ember dashed across the wall to him.

"Danny, are you alright?" she whispered, clapping a hand on his shoulder. He waved her off.

"Go, I'm fine. This changes nothing, just make sure we don't miss our targets," he said quietly, nocking an arrow to his bowstring. His hands were shaking, and she was worried, but she obeyed and rushed back to her spot in a low crouch. The drum roll grew louder again, and just as the prince held up his hand, the executioner grabbed the first levered and pulled.

Youngblood dropped, though for some reason, the rope hadn't been long enough for him to break his neck, and so he hung there, clawing at his neck and gasping for air. Danny drew back the arrow, taking careful aim at the string and loosing the shot. The arrow tore through the rope and Youngblood dropped through the door, landing hard on the ground and gulping down air.

A blade flashed by Danny's nose by a hair's breadth, sending the rogue stumbling back into the battlements of the wall. Walker came at him again, swiping the blade over his head. He rolled away, barely avoiding the sharp sting of cold steel. "Hold still, Fenton!" he snarled, swinging the sword at him like a bat.

The executioner moved to pull the other levers and hang the rest of the men. Youngblood scrambled up onto the scaffold again, diving at the man to stop him from killing the others. The friar clambered up after the boy, ramming into the gallows and pushing with all his might. "Come on, lads!" he roared at them. "Fight your way free!" The beams began to splinter and break under their combined forces, until at last the supports shattered and toppled over. Their nooses where hastily cut and torn away.

Walker moved to the left and thrust his knee forward, catching Danny hard in the gut by surprise and sending him toppling down. He raised his blade to strike-

CRACK! An arrow struck him square in the back of the head and he fell from the wall, rolling down the stairs and crashing into a group of soldiers that had come to aid him. Danny sat up, nodding to Ember in thanks and then dashing off again.

"Guards!" the prince shouted, leaping up out of his chair and to the edge of the platform. "GUARDS! I command you to kill hi-AUGH!" he screamed, looking down to see a chunk of steel protruding from his breastplate. Vlad shoved harder, forcing it through farther, dimly aware of Samantha's scream or the shouts of terror from the people below.

"Amity is mine," he snarled in Aragon's ear, kicking the prince hard in the back and watching the blade slide out as he fell forward and off the high platform, landing with a thud on the stone ground below. Vlad turned on his heal and grabbed Sam's arm, dragging her inside the fortress. "And now, Lady Samantha, it's time to seal the deal by mixing with royal blood," he said harshly.

"Get your hands off of me!" she snarled, jerking against him and doing all in her power to impede his progress. "DANNY!" she screamed.

Danny whirled around, dashing across the wall to the platform and leaping down.

"Hurry up!" Ember shouted, sprinting down the stairs and kicking the oncoming soldiers back down again.

He nodded, rushing in after the sheriff.

Vlad slammed the door behind them, locking it into place and throwing Sam to the ground before the bishop. "Marry us, now!" he snapped, dropping to his knees next to her and pinning her down. "Do it now!"

"If we delay, the rebellion will surely come after us! We must escape!" he said urgently, looking out the window as he spoke.

"I WILL NOT MARRY YOU!" Sam screamed, bucking against his body weight. He raised a hand to strike her but she bucked again, sending him toppling to the ground and giving her just enough time to scramble to her feet. Just as he grabbed her ankle and jerked her back down again, Danny had arrived and begun pounding on the door. "DANNY!" she shrieked, kicking back and catching Vlad in the jaw.

Danny rammed his shoulder against the door, trying to break through. The friar rushed up behind him. "Danny, there's no way to break through that door on your own," he said quickly, looking around for something to help.

"Find another way in!" Danny whispered urgently, now kicking against the door.

Sam screamed again, trying to push Vlad off as his pinned her down with the full weight of his body. "GET OFF OF ME!" she shrieked, and raked her nails against any part of him she could manage. She bucked again, forcing him off to the side, and in one swift movement, she'd ripped the dagger from its sheath in his boot and jammed it into his leg.

Vlad roared with pain, and it gave her just enough opportunity to roll to her feet and dash to the door. She flung the door open and threw her arms around Danny, nearly sobbing.

"Oh how touching, the happy couple to live happily ever after. But you forget, I'm still alive, and as long as I'm here, you're not going to be happy for a very, very long time," he snarled, yanking the dagger out of his leg and getting to his feet with his sword in hand. "And if you don't fight me here and now, I swear I will burn down your entire forest to find you!"

Danny froze, then stepped into the room, drawing his own blade. "Fine, let's just get this over with," he said quietly, his eyes narrowed.

Vlad lunged forward, swinging the blade wildly at Danny's head. He brought his own up in time to hear the clashing of metal on metal. He thrust his own attack forward, missing his face by a mere inch. Vlad forced his blade down again, and hit Danny square in the jaw, sending him reeling back into a stone column.

"Danny!"

"I'm fine, just get out of here!" he said, rolling to the side to avoid being impaled. He brought up his blade and pushed the other back, scrambling to get to his feet. Just as he moved and let Vlad embed his blade into the stone, he felt something sharp force its way into his side. He could have sworn he'd heard himself cry out in pain, but it was just too great for him to utter a sound. Vlad turned on his heal and slapped Samantha hard across the face, and before Danny could react, he'd dragged her out of the room.

Every muscle in his body was begging him to just lay there and close his eyes, to let himself be carried off, but then the burning voice in the back of his head was screaming at him, telling him that if he let go now, he'd let Sam die too and that was something he couldn't allow. Slowly he forced himself to his feet and pulled the dagger from his side. The wound was fairly shallow, only a few inches deep, and had apparently missed anything that might immediately kill him.

He snatched up his bow and quiver as he ran, ignoring the screaming pain and rushing to the wall, where Vlad stood on the far side.

Dangling Samantha over the edge like a doll.

"You believe you've won this?" the sheriff snarled. "You've lost, Fenton! Even if you stop me here, you've lost, because you'll lose your precious Samantha and any chance of pardon all in one fell swoop! You've lost!"

Danny dropped to his knees, staring at the distance she would fall if he let her go. There was no way she could survive that. He chewed his lip a moment, weighing his options as he stared from Vlad to Sam. Out of the corner of his eye, in a window below them, he saw the flash of a large white paw, and smiled.

In one smooth movement he knocked an arrow, drew the string back, and fired, the arrow flying from Danny's bow in seconds before Vlad had time to react.

CRACK! The arrow struck, protruding from the center of Vlad's forehead. For a moment he stood there, his mind attempting to catch up to what had happened. Blood began to trickle from the hole. And then he fell, toppling over the edge of the wall and releasing Samantha as he went.

She screamed as she plummeted towards Earth, praying to and cursing the specters for leaving her such a grim fate- and then suddenly she'd stopped, feeling the wind knocked out of her when someone large and white had reached out and caught her around the ribcage.

"I've gotcha, lass," came a familiar voice from behind her, hoisting her through the window and setting her gently on the ground.

"Oh my specters, friar... I owe you my life," she said gently.

"Pay me back later, child. Isn't there someone you'd like to see?"

She beamed at him and kissed his cheek, dashing off to the stairs and up to the wall again, seeing Danny and throwing herself into his arms like she'd never done before.

-x-0-x-

"...And do you, Sir Daniel Fenton of Casper, take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Then I now-"

"Hold!"

The crowd turned to see who'd arrived, and in a wave the entire crowd dropped to their knees as the good King Pariah stepped through the crowd.

"Your majesty!" Danny said in awe, dropping to one knee.

"Pariah!" Sam said with delight, giving the king a quick hug.

"I cannot let this wedding proceed-"

"But your majesty!"

"Until I have given my blessing," he finished, giving the pair a wide grin and nodding to Danny, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "You may continue, friar."

"Ah, yes... I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride!"

And Danny did, pressing his lips to hers in a way he wanted to remember for the rest of eternity.

The king moved to stand beside the friar, who had already poured himself a mug of ale and was toasting the couple as the music started and the dancing began. They talked and laughed for quite awhile, while the others danced to the beat of the drum long into the night, and happily they remained forever more.


	3. Roses and Thorns

_A/N: Alright, so this story took me FOREVER to finally sit down and write. Sorry! It's a combination of three different versions: The original fairy tale written by Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve in 1740, the version written by Jeanne-Marie Le Prince de Beaumont in 1756, and the Disney version that appeared in their movie in 1991. As with the Disney version, there is a dance scene. In this scene, I found inspiration for the carol (a medieval chain or line dance) with the song "Kingdom Dance" from Disney's "Tangled." It's kind of fun to read that particular scene paired with the song._

_Anyway, I was originally going to break this story into two parts because it's very, very long. I left it as one, so I apologize in advance for its massive length. I hope you all enjoy this one, as it was the most requested, and I had a lot of fun writing it. Please let me know how you like it, and feel free to make requests for fairy tales, as always. Thanks guys!_

* * *

Collective applause went up around the audience before him on the hearth, and he settled deeper into his chair again. "Alright, now I myself have an idea for the next story," he said, and all eyes were upon him. A rapt hush fell over the children and adults alike.

"I'm sure many of you recall that there are often evil, wicked people who hurt good people for bad reasons," he began. "Well, this is a story of a prince, cursed by a wicked man, who must find a young maiden who will love him."

* * *

**Roses and Thorns**

Once, long ago, there dwelt a kingdom by the sea. The kingdom was called Amity, and its ruler was the gracious and benevolent Jack Fenton, who lived in a beautiful castle of white marble and polished gold. Kindness was a common trait in the Fenton royal line, and King Jack was the pinnacle of this trait. He loved his people, and they loved him in return.

But the king had no wife and no heir, and had no intention of marrying until one fateful day, when he took a fall from his horse while riding in the woods. He was rescued by a maiden who made her home there in the woods, named Maddison. She was a strong-willed, beautiful woman, and the king found that he was smitten with her. He returned to see her every day for several months, until at last she agreed to marry him.

At the news of their king taking his bride, the kingdom rejoiced. Their wedding was grand and beautiful. Soon after, they celebrated the birth of their first child, Jasmine. Except for the blue eyes she'd inherited from her father, she was the spitting image of her mother. She was just as lovely, with long copper hair and fair skin. Her loveliness was matched only by her wit, and she was often found studying in the library, reading everything from history to politics to the various languages that they spoke throughout the land.

Two years later, the people rejoiced once more, as Maddison brought into the world a son and heir, Daniel. He had raven hair and startling blue eyes, and might have been the spitting image of the good King Jack. He was courageous and strong, and was often found in the gardens with the weapons master, practicing his steps with the blade. He wasn't quite as well-read as his sister, but he still possessed an intelligence uncommon for his age.

Far from the castle, in the heart of the stormy mountains, there dwelt an evil wizard who did not share the joy that had settled over the kingdom of Amity. This wizard's name was Plasmius, and he felt nothing but loathing for King Jack and his children. Because, you see, Plasmius loved Queen Maddison, and had loved her for as long as he could remember. So when she married the good King Jack and their lovely children grew, his loathing for the King multiplied in turn, festering and rotting, toxic and dangerous, into something beyond hatred.

In the enchanted woods that surrounded the castle there dwelt the good faerie, Dora, who was Plasmius' twin sister. She wore robes of gold, with hair to match her shimmering robes, and had skin of silver, and eyes as green as emeralds. She watched over the children dutifully, and took pride in their growth. In her forest, she tended a flower bush, where she grew for the children her lovely enchanted flowers, and each year, she would present them with a different one. They loved their gifts, and made sure to visit her forest often with treasures of their own to present to the good faerie.

Fourteen happy years passed, until a tragic accident took the life of the good King Jack, and forever changed the young prince. He became shy then, and moved about the castle with awkward steps. It was attributed to his father's mysterious death, and his grief over the whole matter. The poor boy refused to discuss it, saying that it was too painful to recall. Most understood, a few found it disconcerting, but no one pushed the matter. He was young, and it had been difficult for the prince.

In the wake of the good king's death, a bordering kingdom took advantage of the mourning in Amity and declared war on the suffering kingdom. Maddison, in her husband's stead, fought them valiantly, and in two years drove them out of Amity. All was not well, for the queen soon after became tired, and her children worried constantly, no matter how she tried to reassure them.

As one year passed and Maddison's health declined, Daniel's coming of age arrived, the year he reached his seventeenth winter, the year he was to become a man. The celebration of his birth was a grand one, with festivals and parties and all sorts of entertainment. Guests from all corners of the kingdom arrived, bearing gifts and well wishes, and for Daniel, a reprieve from sadness. Among them was the good faerie Dora, who presented the prince with the gift of a single rose, red as blood and not yet in bloom.

"Only when it blooms must you present this rose to your one true love," she told him. "If you do this before the last petal falls, the magic of the rose will give you the strength and love to weather any storm. This rose will only bloom when you are in love." Daniel thanked her graciously with a winning smile, and took the rose gently, intending to keep it safe where he might see it whenever he woke.

The next to approach him was a withered old man, shrouded in a thick black cloak. He hobbled forward and caught Daniel by the arm to pull him close and whisper in his ear. "I have a gift for you," the old man whispered. "I'm going to give you death."

And then he cast off the cloak to reveal a man in robes of silver, with skin blue as water, and eyes like hellfire. He grabbed the prince by his collar, lifted him off the ground, and tossed him aside like a doll. Violet magic exploded from his hands, but instead of decimating the prince, it pierced his mother, who had sacrificed herself to save her only son.

When Plasmius saw what he had done, he shrieked with anguish and rage. He turned his rage on Daniel, with fire in his eyes and heart. He blamed the prince for Maddison's demise, and for that, he would make him suffer. "Until the end of time shall your torment be! You shall know the pain of rejection I have felt, until the end of the world, as an abomination of death!"

And so Plasmius put a terrible curse on the castle, and all who were in it. But poor Prince Daniel received the worst of it by far, if only because of his striking resemblance to the good King Jack.

When Dora realized what her brother had done, she knew of only one way to save them from an eternity of suffering. With the rose she had given the prince, she used all of her magic to alter the powerful curse her brother had cast upon them, and soften the effects of the harsh punishment. Her last words she bestowed upon Daniel, whispering, "The rose I have given you may yet save you. When you meet your one true love, it will bloom for one year. If you can learn to love her unconditionally, and earn her love in return before the last petal falls, then the curse will be broken. If you do not, you may be doomed to this ghostly fate forever."

When she passed, her enchanted forest grew dark and wicked. The castle, under the evil wizard's curse, became cold and foreboding, its residents cursed to a ghostly near-death. By the time Plasmius discovered what his sister had done, he knew it was already to late to stop her. The damage had already been done, and so he grudgingly resigned himself to watch and wait, hoping for the right time to damn the prince to an eternity of suffering and slavery.

And so the years passed, and young Daniel's hope faded. The visitors stopped coming, the rose never bloomed, and the prince resigned himself to his grim fate. For who could ever learn to love such a monster?

-x-0-x-

Jeremy Manson had been wealthy once. His family had lived comfortably in a manor in an upscale city. But that all changed when his wife, Pamela, died. After that, everything had seemed to go downhill, and before long, Jeremy simply threw up his hands in defeat and decided that he and his three daughters would take what was left of his wealth and move to a small town in the country, called Casper.

Two of his three daughters were less than thrilled with their new surroundings, and one complained frequently about quite nearly everything. The eldest, who did not complain so much, was named Starla Honour. She was level tempered and thoughtful, and complained only over her sister's incessant noise. Starla only spoke truthfully, and was gracious to others.

The middle sister, named Paulina Grace, complained constantly. She was fair and haughty, and thought that her beauty surpassed that of her sisters' and all of the other women around her. She was graceful, as her name suggested, and spent much of her time flaunting her grace and toying with the hearts of unsuspecting young men.

The youngest sister, named Samantha Belle, did not complain at all. She was usually quiet, but fiercely headstrong and was often seen with her nose in a book. Her sisters were often amongst a crowd, but Samantha Belle preferred her solitude. The people of their small town already thought her strange. After all, what woman spent her time reading, running, and climbing trees? It was very peculiar indeed. While she had a kind heart and demeanor, Samantha Belle was certainly not afraid to express her opinion or defend herself from ridicule.

They lived on a small farm on the northern edge of town, where the plains and the forest met. Paulina hated the forest, fearing that it was riddled with wicked spirits. Starla paid it no heed, and Samantha found it simply fascinating. She would spend hours perched neatly in her favorite tree, immersed in her latest text.

That day was no different, it seemed, until she was interrupted by Paulina's shrill shriek. "Samantha! Get over here this instant!"

Samantha groaned. Whatever Paulina wanted, it was certain to be a waste of time. Never the less, she marked her page, closed the book, and swung down from the tree branch to land softly on the cold ground, and trod back to the house. The older girl rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

"Why do you romp around town like a boy? You tear up all of your skirts and now our neighbors think that you're strange. Do you know how that reflects on our family?"

Samantha ignored her older sister's complaint entirely, and instead sighed with resignation. "What do you want?"

"Father is leaving for the port soon and wants to speak with us." The youngest Manson sighed again and followed, clutching the book to her chest. The pair entered the cottage to find their other sister and their father already waiting. Samantha crossed to settle herself into her chair by the hearth, and the three daughters turned their attention on their father as he cleared his throat.

"I'll be going to the port soon. I received word that a large shipment came in and we'll be able to make some decent coin at the shop," he said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Since I'll be in the city, I wanted to know if you girls would like a gift for when I return."

"I'd like a fine dress of pink silk and lace," Paulina said, her fair face lit up with glee.

"A lovely necklace will be perfect, father," Starla said serenely.

"And what about you, Samantha?"

She thought to herself for a moment. "I'd like a rose, papa."

"Just a rose?" he said, a half-smile playing across his face. She nodded.

"Yes, a rose will be just fine," she said simply.

"Very well then," he replied, then moved to kiss each of his daughters on the forehead and strode out the door. "I'll be back within a fortnight girls."

-x-0-x-

While the older two girls cleaned and prepared to make dinner, Samantha went to the market. Starla needed flour and eggs for the bread, and she herself wanted to visit the bookshop to see if old man Lancer had gotten any new books in. She made her way through the crowded market, past bakers carrying trays of sweet rolls and loaves of bread, past farmers selling their fruits and vegetables, past old ladies peddling shiny baubles and pretty trinkets, and finally to the shop where old man Lancer kept his books.

"Good morning, Mr. Lancer," she said brightly.

"Good morning, Sam!" he said happily. "You haven't already finished that book already, have you?"

She grinned. "Yep, all finished."

"But it's only been two days!" he chuckled. "I do hope you're enjoying the other book I wanted you to read."

Samantha nodded. "I truly love it," she said. "But I'm afraid I'll finish it soon!"

"Ah, well in that case, let me have you read this one. It's a little older, I think it was written about a hundred years ago, but it's truly _fascinating_."

She took the heavy leather-bound book from him gingerly and placed it in her basket. "I'll read it as soon as I can," she said, and bid the old book-keeper farewell. She made her way by each stall, purchasing from the list Starla had given her, and just as she was preparing to make her way back home, a wall of muscle and blond hair blocked her path.

"What, Dash?" she said irritably.

"Well now, that's no way to talk to a future husband," he clucked, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"Go away, please," she said flatly, trying to push his arm away, but he was persistent and refused to move the limb. "Look, Dash, I've got things to do, work to be finished... maybe you can fail to woo me later?" she offered.

He didn't seem to notice her choice of words, and continued to walk with her up to the house. Starla spotted the pair out the window and grimaced. She knew of her youngest sister's disdain for the obnoxious, conceited, narcissistic mass that was Dashiel Baxter. She also knew that Paulina had attempted to turn him into another one of her playthings, but had failed because of his fixed attraction to Samantha. Why the boy was fixated on Samantha alone was a mystery, but Starla didn't want her sister trapped being hounded by a meat-head, and so she walked to the door and pushed it open quickly.

Samantha ducked. Dash didn't, and the door smacked into him hard and knocked him over the fence and straight into the pigpen.

The girls both pressed a hand to their mouths with feigned worry.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry-" Starla began.

"Oh Dash, are you alright?" Samantha crooned.

"I'm sure you're fine, be seeing you," they both said, and closed the door quickly.

Dash growled angrily at the door, wiping mud from his furrowed brow. "You can't avoid me forever!" he snarled, getting to his feet. His lackey, an equally-abrasive and obnoxious boy named Kwan, handed him a cloth to wipe the mud away, and shook his head.

"Why that one? She's different from the rest of us."

"Yes, but she's also a beauty. Much fairer than any of the other girls in this miserable city. And you know what that means."

"Yeah, yeah, beautiful is the best."

"Right, and I get NOTHING but the best."

-x-0-x-

Jeremy stared at the map hopelessly. Why did these maps always look simpler than the roads were? He looked up from the map to the fork in the road he stood at, and sighed. To the left was the road that took the long path around the forest, and would bring him back to Casper well after dark. To the right was the path that cut directly through the forest, but it was much darker than the other, and was potentially riddled with spirits and beasts. He didn't like the sound of that.

But he was short on time, and patience. If he wanted to arrive before dark, he'd have to take the right fork, and hope that the stories of spirits and beasts were just stories. And so he pulled the reins to the right and guided his horse down the path through the woods. As they trotted along, it grew ever darker, and Jeremy could feel the horse shifting uneasily beneath him. He didn't blame the steed, as he was feeling wary himself. He reached back and patted the bag hanging heavily at the horse's flank. In it he'd neatly folded a fine dress of pink silk and lace for Paulina Grace, and a lovely necklace for Starla Honour. But for little Samantha Belle, he had nothing. He had spent hours scouring the city, and there were no roses to be seen. Guilt was heavy in his heart, but he would try to make it up to her.

And then a flurry of shrieks pierced the air behind him. The horse shied, and bucked once before dashing off through the trees, with a helpless Jeremy hanging on with everything he had. It mattered very little, because the horse bucked again, this time with force enough to throw Jeremy, and the bag he clung to, clean off the saddle. The steed lingered a moment before bolting through the trees again, taking with him the echoes of the shrieks.

Jeremy lay on the ground for what felt like eternity. He'd just been tossed to the hard earth like a doll, and now his back was aching. But he knew that laying here in the cold was almost certainly a death sentence, and so he slowly clambered to his feet. When he looked up, he realized that he was standing before a set of great, wrought-iron gates, and beyond them, a magnificent and foreboding castle. He blinked a few times and his eyes fell on a sign that hung on the gates, embossed in golden letters that read "ENTER." He chewed his lip apprehensively for but a moment and then obeyed the sign, walking quietly through the gates and up the impressive stone walk, to the great oak doors that also bore a sign, with gold letters that read "ENTER."

He obeyed the sign, pushing forward the doors into what he supposed must be a grand entrance hall. And grand it was. Tapestries of fine silks lined the walls, suits of once-gleaming silver armor, and two grand staircases that lined the east and west walls of the hall made for a brilliant impression. The deep red carpet that ran the length of the hall was covered in a thick layer of dust. This place had certainly not been well kept over the years. He followed the dusty carpet to the end of the hall, where another great set of doors led into a magnificent chamber beyond, where his breath caught for a moment.

What struck him first was the gleaming crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling on a golden chain, covered with long-since burned candles and yet more dust. It was situated directly above a long cherry table that could have seated four dozen guests, the deep cherry wood almost impossible to discern from the sandiness of the dust, save for the end of the table nearest him. As he approached, he took notice of two little signs in the dim candlelight, provided by the nearly-spent wax puddles near the signs. The first stood beside a tall goblet of finely wrought silver that was filled with a sweet-smelling wine. The little sign read "DRINK." To the right of the goblet, there were plates laden with steaming food: pasta, ham, a roasted turkey, potatoes of all kinds and the sweet rolls he used to buy his daughters from the ancient baker down the lane. The little sign beside it read, "EAT."

And so Jeremy obeyed the signs, and ate and drank until he could eat and drink no more. His hunger satisfied and his thirst quenched, he thanked his invisible hosts and prepared to depart. He walked through the doors and paused just outside, catching a glimpse of something red and green out of the corner of his eye: a rose, perfect in every way. The little flower was closed, and had not yet bloomed. All the better, for Samantha Belle would love to watch the rose open in her care. So he reached out and plucked it carefully from the bush, where all manner of other pretty flowers were. Strange, he thought, for so many flowers to be on one bush.

"You would steal from me after my hospitality?" a harsh voice suddenly growled from behind him. Jeremy spun around to face his accuser, only to see that there was no one there. "Theft is a sentence punishable by imprisonment."

"Please, I did not know! I just wanted to give this to my daughter-"

"Then perhaps you should not have stolen from me."

"But I can pay you!"

At this the voice paused, and then laughed. The laugh was ghostly and harsh, almost a bark. "That rose is precious to me," it said almost thoughtfully. "Trade to me your daughter for the rose, and I will forgive your crimes and let you free."

"But she's my daughter!" Jeremy protested desperately. "I can't give to you my daughter!"

"Then you will rot in the dungeon."

Jeremy made an exasperated sound. "But... a girl for a flower?"

"That rose is precious to me," the voice repeated. "It is only a fair trade if you trade to me something precious to you."

"But-"

"Or you may contemplate the ideals of fair trade while you live out the remainder of your days in the dungeon."

"Wait!" Jeremy said, his voice trembling. "Very well! I will return with her in one week. I need proper time to... to... say goodbye..."

"And then you shall have the rose, but not before then. Be sure you keep your word, or you will sorely regret it."

-x-0-x-

"You're late, father."

"Did you bring my present?"

"Papa, are you alright?"

Jeremy studied each of his daughters' faces, almost amused at the difference between each of them. Starla Honour stared at him with determined and knowing blue eyes that were so like his own. Paulina Grace's eyes were less determined and far less knowing, but held a certain beauty that mirrored that of their poor dead mother. Her eyes were instead fixed with interest and longing, desperate for the next shiny bauble to grab their scant attention. And lastly he fixed his eyes on Samantha Belle's peculiar, yet lovely eyes, inherited from her Grandmother and always so focused and certain. There was a steady fierceness in her gaze that was unlike anything he could recall.

Slowly, after attempting to swallow his trembling, he exhaled a smile. "I'm fine, girls, fear not. I'm just a little tired from my trip, that is all."

Paulina's eyes relaxed considerably, but Starla and Samantha continued to stare at him with piercing gazes, so intense that he had to remove himself from the room for fear that the incident would spill out of him against his crumbling resolve to keep the truth from the girls.

But most unfortunately for the merchant was that his undoing would not be his more persistent daughters, but the one who had little interest in what had happened to him on that night, when only four days later, the family was sitting at the breakfast table, and Paulina Grace opened her mouth.

"Papa, how come you forgot to bring home a rose for Samantha?" she asked between mouthfuls of porridge. Jeremy, who'd been sipping on coffee procured from his trip, spit it into his breakfast bowl and caught the suspicious stares of his daughters. At last the pressure was far too much, and before he knew it, the entire story was spilling out of him like he was a man possessed.

He recounted the terrifying encounter, from the shrieks in the forest to the castle and the signs and the food, down to the invisible monster that had threatened him in the garden. The reactions of each of his three daughters were starkly different. Starla Honour stared at him with a piercing, determined look that was more calculating than fearful. Paulina's eyes were wide with worry and fear, her lips parted slightly as she processed the story. Samantha Belle, however, had no fear, nor calculation in her eyes. An odd gleam of_ fascination_ played on her eyes as she listened intently.

Jeremy swallowed hard with the completion of his story, and said softly, "But no one will be going anywhere. Not me, not Samantha Belle, _no __one_, and be damned with the consequences."

"But father-" Samantha tried to interrupt, but he shook his head.

"_NO_. No one is going, the monster is taking no one and nothing, and that's _final_."

Starla looked between the two, and asked, "Father, what _are_ the consequences if you don't return with Samantha Belle?"

"I... it doesn't matter, because no one is going, and there will be no trade."

But Jeremy would be very disappointed, because the following morning when he awoke and went to wake his daughters, Samantha Belle's bed was empty. On her pillow was a note written in her hand that read:

_Papa,_

_I know you didn't want me to go. I also know that something  
__bad was sure to happen to you if I didn't go. I hope you can  
forgive me, and know that I will be alright._

_Love,_

_Samantha Belle_

Jeremy felt his eyes burn as he read it, and his lip trembled. _Such a foolish girl..._ he thought to himself, but couldn't bring himself to be angry for all the fear in his heart. And on the bed, just below the pillow, he found another note, this one in a foreign hand, that read:

_Our trade is complete._

_-Phantom_

Jeremy read it several times, and a moment later, spotted a rose in a small glass of water on the kitchen table, another note attached to it.

_I suggest you take care of this, as it is precious to me. And in return, I will look after what is precious to you._

And Jeremy knew then that it was too late to go after her, and he wept for the loss of his lovely Samantha Belle.

-x-0-x-

_Samantha had waited until everyone was asleep to rise from bed again. She shimmied into a traveling coat, stuffed a few pieces of clothing and her books into a knapsack, and slung it over her shoulder. She donned a thick cloak and made her way for the door, but a whisper through the darkness halted her movement._

_"Where do you think you're going?" came the hushed voice of her eldest sister._

_"I'm going to fulfill the deal, Star," Samantha replied evenly._

_"Sammy, don't you think that if it was safe to send you, father might have considered it? He won't send you because it IS dangerous."_

_"Star, please, I have to do this. We don't know what will happen to papa if I don't go, but we do know that the... Phantom, I suppose? We know that he could return at any time to take Papa away. I don't know, but I know that father is old and ill. I'll not sit here comfortably knowing he'll rot in a dungeon. No, absolutely not. You would do the same in my shoes, Star. I'll write when I can, take care of Papa."_

The conversation played over and over in her head all throughout the journey into the woods. She'd worried that someone would spot her riding into the forest at the small hours of the morning, but the shadows had proven effective enough to hide her from sight, and she'd slipped away without notice. The trek through the forest itself was uneasy, and the horse trotted nervously through the chilly autumn air. Noises kept hissing and slithering through the trees, and as the sun rose, the shadows seemed to grow deeper.

She couldn't help but feel a knot of resentment in her chest. What sort of monster traded a human life for a flower? It was ridiculous, even beyond ridiculous to her. But she'd keep her word.

When she came upon the great wrought-iron gates, she was speechless. She could imagine the tall, dark towers being once lit and happy, filled with guests and loving family. Now they stood shadowed and haunted. She dismounted the horse and gingerly pushed open the gate, closing it behind her and padding silently to the great doors, which opened for her as she arrived. She chewed her lower lip as she stepped into the dark entrance hall, where the tapestries and suits of armor cast long shadows across the floor.

"Hello?" she called into the darkness. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

"Who are you?" came a harsh voice through the darkness, a voice that belonged to a floating pair of rather angry, poison-green eyes that glowed from the depths of the shadowy hallway.

"I'm Samantha," she said defiantly. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"The master of this castle," he began, but was unable to finish, as the girl interjected.

"I'm here to make your silly trade."

"The trade?" the eyes repeated. "You're the merchant's daughter?"

She nodded. "So here I am, just as promised. Here to be your prisoner for the rest of forever." The eyes didn't respond; they seemed to be sizing her up. She almost wondered what he'd expected her to be, as the floating eyes seemed so surprised.

"So the old man really did trade his own daughter for his freedom?"

"No," she snapped, her calm demeanor wavering. "I came here of my own free will. He doesn't even know I'm here yet."

"I see," was the short reply.

"So you can take me straight up to the tower, or to the dungeon or wherever you're going to toss me for the rest of my life." The eyes regarded her silently. "And if I'm going to be locked up, at least let me see what you look like."

"Pardon?" the eyes said, seemingly taken aback.

"If I'm going to be a prisoner, let me at least see the face of my captor."

She could see the thought behind the eyes as they took her face in, and finally, she saw movement within the shadows. "Very well," he said, and stepped into the light that spilled in from the open door. The eyes belonged to a young man with a pallor that was almost pale as death. He wore a black tunic lined with silver, and black breeches paired off with gray boots. His appearance was certainly odd, as his body seemed to be outlined with a ghostly glow. His face was what caused her the most alarm, dotted with scars from some unknown battle with a force that didn't look human. The scars didn't detract from the roguish handsomeness that shined even through the weariness and dour glare. His hair was shaggy and unkempt. It wasn't terribly long but it was certainly shaggy. But beyond even this, his eyes were what got to her most. They were fierce, toxic green, but the hardness and ferocity belied the hurt that shadowed the depths within.

She tilted her chin up and stared him straight in the eye. "Do what you will with me, then."

He seemed struck by her curious lack of fear. Whatever it was, it spoke to him, and he eyed her with cautious curiosity.

"I'll show you to your room. Come with me."

"My room? Am I not a prisoner?" she asked, her eyebrow quirked quizzically.

"Would you rather stay in the dungeons?"

"No..."

"Then follow me." He made his way up the eastern staircase, his glow casting light on the walls. She followed behind silently, her eyes fixed on the ground. The creature in front of her, the Phantom, led her through what felt like dozens of dark, dusty hallways, their walls lined with ancient tapestries and cloth-covered portrait frames. She could almost see the deep red of the carpet through the cobwebs and filth. The place had certainly not been kept very well for however long the ghost had haunted it.

He stopped at the end of a long corridor, and pushed a door open, gesturing for her to enter. "Valerie," he said, obviously not to her, because he was facing into the hallway again. "Make sure the place is cleaned up a bit. Make it livable."

"Yes, your highness," was the voice that answered him, and Sam's eyebrow quirked again.

"Perhaps you should invite her to dine with you?" whispered another voice, belonging to a body she couldn't see.

She heard him growl, and the poison-green eyes turned on her again. "I... you can wander anywhere in the castle you like. This place is your home now, so you can explore it as you wish, but stay clear of the west wing," he said slowly, shifting uneasily.

"What's in the west wing?"

"Nothing. It's forbidden, that's all you need to know," he snapped. And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall and through a wall.

Sam glared after him and turned to see the curtains opening themselves, so she cleared her throat, and the curtains ceased to move.

"Oh, right, forgot you can't see me," said the curtains (or whatever it was that puppeted them), and a moment later, the ghostly figure of a girl materialized before her. She was a slip of a girl, with long, wavy dark hair and dark translucent skin. "I'm Valerie. I'm supposed to be your caretaker, it seems."

"I'm Samantha... just call me Sam."

"Alright then, Sam," the caretaker named Valerie said as she dusted the room off, and it was then that Sam got a proper look at the place. It had a high ceiling, and the walls were painted a warm shade of white and trimmed in ornate gold. The bed was a grand four-poster with lavender linens and curtains and deep purple trim. The walls were covered with mirrors and decorative furniture; a vanity, large wardrobe, and several book cases completed the set. She felt like she stood in a room fit for a princess.

"What sort of man trades a life for a flower? Is he so jaded that he's simply trying to make someone miserable?" she muttered bitterly. The moment the words left her mouth she mentally admonished herself, because Valerie had clearly taken notice.

"Well, that could be part of the reason. He's been away from the world for nearly two hundred years, you see. The only people he'll even talk to anymore are the steward and the princess, and sometimes he's even bitter with them. But he's not stupid, he knows you'll be upset at first."

"At first? What makes him think I won't be upset the rest of my natural life?" Sam spat, the anger that had sat like an unpleasant lump in her chest finally spewing out of her. She sank onto the bed as Valerie completed the dusting and exhaled.

"You're probably a bit frustrated... that's understandable, miss."

"Please, just call me Sam."

"Alright, Sam. But as I was saying, he'll probably give you a few days to settle in before he makes another appearance. After all, he did give you free roam in the castle, not something he throws out lightly."

"I couldn't really care less," she sighed, and drew her knees up to her chest. "I don't really want anything to do with him."

-x-0-x-

It was a good three months before Sam would emerge from her room. While she'd locked herself away, the leaves had changed and then fallen, and snow had carpeted the grounds. The servants, remembering her human limitations, were forced to bring her food so she wouldn't starve herself to death. She'd eat, but it didn't seem like something she was overly concerned with. She was quiet around them, the anger that'd burned in her chest seeming to die down, if only temporarily, and she spent most of her time reading the books she'd brought with her. She read the first one quickly, and the second one seemed very odd to her. It detailed a cursed castle, surrounded by cursed woods, and haunted by a cursed prince. She couldn't bring herself to read it in its entirety, so she resigned herself to reading the first book repeatedly.

But that was when it was quiet. Each day, Phantom would knock on her door and order her to attend dinner. Each time, she'd angrily refuse him, and the pair would have a shouting match through the door, ending with Sam throwing something at the door and Phantom storming off in a huff. Normally this would be cause for alarm, as the servants knew of the temper the prince had developed over the long years. However, that he was showing any kind of passion for _anything_ was extremely encouraging in itself.

Since the curse, the Phantom Prince had slowly removed himself from the living in both body and mind. As the long years crept past, and the final visitors ceased to come around, he began to draw back from any emotion, his feelings being spurned and rejected by all who he dared believe might help him break the terrible curse. And so he'd lost the spark of hope that used to light his eyes, replaced now by bitterness, depression, and anger, and then, even the anger was gone, until he seemed to care little about anything.

The one thing that kept him grounded, though, was the occasional lost traveler that stumbled upon his haunted castle. It seemed that he couldn't bring himself to shed the pity he felt for these lost, weary souls, and so each time he felt the presence of one such soul, he ordered that the servants of the castle see to it that the traveler was fed properly and sent along their way. And it was the very same with the traveler known as Jeremy Manson... until he'd spotted the flower bush.

Jasmine had felt the rumbling of her brother's temper even before it happened, as she watched the graying man approach the enchanted flower bush that the prince had rescued from the dark forest so many years ago. And what was worse, the only other flower to grow upon the bush since then, the man had taken an interest in. She was sure that if it hadn't been the rose he'd tried to pluck, her brother's wrath might have softened. And now, as she stood beside her brother with a hand to her temple, she wondered if it was a blessing or a curse that the man had chosen the rose.

She decided it was a bit of both, listening to the shouting match between the Phantom and the girl.

"You're being stubborn!" he growled, banging his fist on the door.

"And you're being stupid!" she shouted back. "I'm not coming out, and you can't make me!"

"So what, are you just planning to starve?" Exasperation seemed to touch the edges of his harsh tones.

"That's of no concern to you, good day!" she called back through the wood of the door.

He threw up his hands. "Why the hell is she being so difficult?" he snarled, turning on his heel once again and storming off down the hall. His anger was so great that he seemed to have forgotten that he was, indeed, a phantom, and he opened the great door to the west wing and_ slammed_ it behind him. Jasmine blinked and took a glance to her left at the poor steward, who's left eye twitched, his prince and best friend having stormed off like an angry child.

There was silence between them for a long time, until at last, the steward said, "So... was that... a good thing?"

She pursed her lips a moment as she thought. "Well, I suppose it could be good. He's more lively than I've seen him in a century."

"Perhaps I can calm him down."

"No, best to leave him with his thoughts. He's already trashed his quarters enough as it is. Right now, I think it'd be best to allow things to happen. Head down to the kitchens, and make sure the-"

But she ceased her speech with a gaping mouth as she saw the door to the girl's room open and the raven-haired beauty peer into the dark hallway. She stepped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her, then made her way through the corridor. Her assigned caretaker, Valerie, stepped through the door and glanced at her peers.

"I think she's been coming down with a bit of cabin fever," she said simply, shrugging, and then making her way off after her charge.

Jasmine shrugged, and followed after.

"So," the girl said after a long time of wandering, "I don't suppose you'd like to give me a tour, Valerie?"

"I could, but I'm sure the steward knows more about the castle than I do," she replied. Sam turned to face her, spotting the translucent figures of Jasmine and the steward behind her.

"Oh!" she said, somewhat surprised. She'd never spotted anyone else in the castle besides Valerie before, and it was a nice change from the invisible voices.

"Er... can she see us?" the boy muttered to the tall girl with copper hair.

"Well, he told her that the castle is her home. I'm sure she can, now," she replied, and hovered forward. "Hello there, I'm Jasmine, pleasure to finally meet you." The ghost named Jasmine smiled kindly and bowed. "But please, just call me Jazz. I think we're a hundred years or so past the need for formalities. And this here is-"

"Tucker, miss. Or Tuck, whichever. I'm the prince's steward," the boy supplied, bowing to her. "And I'd be glad to give you a tour, if that's what you wish."

She smiled. "Please, just Sam. 'Miss' sounds too... titled, I guess." The boy nodded, and waved for her to follow, and led the girl and ghost companions through dim halls, Valerie drawing open curtains as she went to allow them to see properly. He explained to her the origins of the paintings upon the walls, the construction and architecture of the castle, and the various rooms and chambers that filled it. She seemed to hang on his every word, as she'd never been in a castle of any kind before, much less and haunted or cursed one (which he vehemently denied when she mentioned it).

They came upon the grand entrance hall, where she spotted a large door opposite the hallways they'd just traversed. "Where does that lead?" she asked.

"Oh that... that's nothing. Just the west wing," the steward said anxiously. "Now if you'll follow me this way, I can show you to the dining hall..."

"Why is the west wing forbidden?" she asked, not moving from her spot.

"Erm... because it's empty?" he tried to explain, but could see that the girl wasn't buying a word of it.

"Uh huh," she said flatly, one eyebrow arched at him. "It wouldn't be forbidden if it was empty."

"Erm... well, there are better places to look," he stuttered, clearly racking his brain for a way to keep the girl as far away from the west wing as possible. "We um... we have the dining hall, the portrait room, the study, the library..."

"The library? You've got a library?" she asked excitedly, her eyes suddenly lighting up.

His face relaxed. "Yes! We have a massive library! Filled with books upon mountains of books!" he said, and floated off down the hall to show her the way.

She began to follow, but curiosity was nagging at the back of her brain, and so she crept into the forbidden west wing.

The place had been destroyed, it appeared. Something (likely the Phantom Prince) had ripped the furniture apart, torn up the walls, and generally blown through like a tornado. She crept silently over broken glass and wood, finally coming to the end of the hall, where she found a door nearly off its hinges, and within it, what appeared to be the prince's chamber.

It might have been nice, once. But whatever rage had been housed in the prince's heart had destroyed it. Everything was broken and shredded... except for one thing that the girl's eyes fell upon. It was a glass case, and within it stood a rose as though it grew out of the gold trim of the very case. It was shimmering with magicks unknown, and lovely to look upon. As she went to earn a closer look, movement behind her startled her.

"What are you doing here?" snarled a voice from the darkness, a familiar growl that belonged to a pair of toxic green eyes.

She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," she stammered.

"NEVER EVER COME INTO THE WEST WING!" he roared, the air rippling around him. She stepped back, frightened.

"I didn't mean any harm!" she tried to say, but it was clear his rage had made him deaf. He roared again, this time incoherent words echoing off the walls, breaking a nearby mirror. She took another step back.

Sam never realized how close she was to the edge of the shattered balcony. She found it odd that the anger in the Phantom's eyes seemed to die in an instant. But then she realized why when she noticed that there was nothing beneath her feet, and she toppled backwards off the ledge and plummeted towards the cold, hard earth.

-x-0-x-

Plasmius prided himself on many things. He was excellent at deception. He was brilliant with sorcery. He was a prodigy with torture. But right now, he was using his considerable talent with spying to keep an eye on the obnoxious boy he'd hoped might have died by now (or his heart, at any rate).

Unfortunately for Plasmius, he was about to be very disappointed. He watched with darker and darker eyes as first a man attempted to steal a flower from his late twin's flower bush. He'd almost hoped the boy would have grown so inhuman that he'd execute the poor man, but was disappointed that he had decided upon a trade instead. When the Phantom boy had offered to trade the flower for the merchant's daughter, Plasmius laughed aloud.

Would any man truly agree to such a trade?

So the wicked sorcerer continued to watch, peering into the scrying pool with an interested gaze. And then a sudden fear clutched at his chest as a girl arrived at the castle, and willingly entered. Each day he would peer into the scrying pool, hoping that some accident would befall the girl, or that the monster the prince had become would scare her away. But she continued to remain, and the boy began to look..._ alive_. He gritted his teeth, eyes becoming angrier as he watched.

And then there was hope. The girl ventured into the boy's decimated chambers, and then did something foolish: got far too close to the rose his dead twin had given the stupid boy. And then the boy had lost his horrible temper, and shouted with a violent rage, and the girl had stumbled and fell.

He clenched his fists, waiting for the moment she'd hit the cold stone of the walk below her and her skull would splatter all over the pavement, and yet again the boy would be thwarted. He felt even his teeth on edge, his body trembling for that sweet grief that would surely paint the phantom prince's eyes.

But it never came.

-x-0-x-

Sam thought she was dead for sure. She didn't seem to be falling anymore, and she'd closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see what eventually happened to her. But then she became aware of a pair of strong arms gripping her around her waist, and she felt a dull thud as she finally hit the ground. The world swam around her, and she blacked out.

-x-0-x-

Plasmius screamed out in anguish. What had possessed the stupid boy to do something so... well, stupid? He'd leaped off the balcony without a second thought, grabbed the girl around the waist, and positioned her so that when the pair hit the ground, he was the one that took the brunt of it, clutching her tightly to his chest.

Of course, it wasn't as stupid as it might have seemed. Part of what his sister had done was that the boy and all who were affected by the curse had been granted immortality, as Plasmius knew first hand; after he'd discovered Dora's interference, he'd gone to try and kill the boy, but her meddling had spared the prince and his servants their eternal torment at Plasmius' hand. So of course, a fall from the balcony was certain not to kill him. Perhaps put him in a bit of pain for a few weeks, but most definitely not kill him.

The sorcerer kicked over a nearby table, its contents crashing to the ground. "AAAAARRRRRRR!" he wailed. "WHY DOES NOTHING I WANT SUCCEED!"

Trembling with rage, he turned on his heel. "No, this simply will not do. I must do something... something to draw her away, something to make sure that the curse is not broken. I will have him _suffer_, damn it!" He kicked another table, and watched the goblet of wine that'd previously been perched upon it spill to the floor. A plan began to form as the red liquid spread across the floor. He had two viable options. Surely, the girl still had a family. He would have to find a way to draw her back... but that was only if he couldn't kill her.

So he donned his cloak and went forth from his stormy mountains, and began to enact a wicked plan.

-x-0-x-

When Sam came to (she had no idea how long she'd been laying there in the snow), she was extremely disoriented. The air seemed to have been knocked from her chest. She tried to sit up, but felt a pair of arms around her waist, gripping her tightly. She heard a moan from beneath her and turned to see the Phantom prince, his eyes closed, red staining the snow drift they'd fallen into. She cried out and pried his arms away, scrambled off of him, and shook him.

"C'mon, don't be dead," she muttered, her eyes fearful. With all the strength she could muster, she tried to push him to a sitting position. "Open your eyes damn it!"

His eyes opened a slit, and he seemed about to say something, but a blue hand snatched Sam up by the scruff of her dress and jerked her up. "Gah!"

"What have we here?" sneered a voice Sam didn't very much like. It sent chills down her back and made the hairs on her neck stand on end. "My my, you're very pretty, aren't you? Must be why your second name is 'Belle'."

"Let her go!" growled the boy in the snow as he tried his hardest to get to his feet.

"Now now, Daniel, behave or you may aggravate your injuries!" the sinister voice mocked, and Sam was at last able to glance over her shoulder at whoever was holding her. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, with blue skin and deep, wicked red eyes. He wore robes of silver and his black hair was parted into two devilish-looking horns.

"Let me go!" she snarled, and he hoisted her higher up off the ground. She kicked out, but was unable to land any strikes.

"I think you'll find that I'm unable to abide your request, dear," the man said. "You see, your presence here is such a problem for our poor prince, I thought I'd come by and do him a favor and take you away."

"Let her go, Plasmius!" the boy in the snow snarled again, now on his feet. His eyes were on fire.

The fiendish man laughed. The sound was hollow and cold. The laughter died a moment later, and Sam felt herself crumple to the ground. The man had let her go in order to deflect some brilliant, blinding attack. She covered her head and scrambled back in time to narrowly miss something that hit the ground where she'd sat a moment before and exploded.

"Sam!" called a voice from behind her. She cast a rapid glance over her shoulder and spotted Valerie sprinting out of the castle, followed by a host of ghostly figures.

The wicked man named Plasmius paused, drawing away from the boy, who was now clutching his chest. The man himself was smoldering as well and something purple was leaking from his chin. "It appears now is a poor time," he said, clearly outnumbered now. He waved his hands around, muttering something about being back, and vanished in a whirl of magenta light.

The boy turned, locked his poison-colored eyes on her lavender ones, and collapsed into the snow.

When the Phantom Prince woke next, he was slumped into a deep, cushy chair before the hearth. Across him sat his sister, who was immersed in a book, per usual. For a moment he thought that perhaps he was dreaming of some long-lost memory of a time long ago, but he realized he could see the chair through her, so he knew it was no dream. At least no good dream. Tucker stood beside him, a gleam of worry in his ghostly eyes.

And then he spotted someone beside him who wasn't translucent at all. Sam was pressing a hot, wet cloth to his temple, her lavender eyes fixed with worry on what appeared to be his bruised face. She noticed his eyes had opened, and blinked away the worry. He groaned as she pressed the cloth to a fresh cut. "That hurts," he growled.

"Well next time, maybe you won't do something so reckless," she said stiffly, dipping the rag into a bowl of steaming water, wringing it out, and pressing it to his cheek. He flinched and growled again.

"Reckless!" he spat. "I'M not the reckless one! I jumped out that window to save your hide!"

"And you wouldn't have had to if you hadn't screamed at me and scared me like that!" she snapped back, but continued her work with gentle hands.

"Well maybe you shouldn't have been in the west wing, like I told you!"

"And you should control your nasty temper!"

He opened his mouth and closed it several times, but found no good retort, and resigned to close it again, now simply pouting.

"This is going to sting a little," she said softly, blowing stray strands of ebony hair from her eyes. He flinched again as the rag was pressed to a nasty cut on his temple, and she wiped away the blood.

He let her continue her work with little complaint, simply watching her out of the corner of his eye. The servants in the room had held their collective breaths (though they didn't actually breathe), and let out sighs of relief as they looked on, thoroughly intrigued. Jasmine, who seemed to be the only one who wasn't worried, simply read her book silently, a smile on her delicate, spectral lips.

"By the way," Sam said after a long period of silence. "Thanks."

"Eh?" the boy queried, peering at her through shaggy, snow-colored hair.

"Thank you... for saving my life."

He was quiet as he regarded her, but at last, his eyes seemed to soften, and he replied, "You're welcome."

-x-0-x-

The following months at the castle were a whirlwind, to say the least. The Phantom Prince seemed to have found new life, and had ordered the servants of the castle to clean and dust, and make the place more livable for all of them. Sam didn't seem to mind at all, and spent more of her time roaming. Since recovering, the prince had again asked Sam to join him for dinner, rather than ordering her to attend.

For once, she accepted, which took him by surprise. Even more surprising still to the both of them was that they actually had quite a lot to talk about, and spent well after dinner conversing, until well into the night. This went on for weeks, and with each passing day, the phantom prince looked more and more alive. His green eyes no longer held shadows in their depths, but seemed to burn brighter each time he saw her.

The winter months passed in a blur of snowball fights and fire-side stories. Winter gave way to spring, and they would spend hours wandering through the gardens, reading books and tending flowers, and more and more, Sam felt in her core a funny feeling she'd never really paid heed to before. Maybe it was something she'd never really felt before.

Then, just when summer began to touch the land and paint it green and gold, at breakfast one early morning, while they gathered at the table and chattered amongst themselves, Jazz got to her feet and called for silence. Something mischievous shined behind her eyes.

"Everyone, I have a suggestion," she said, words that caused the Prince to put his head in his hands and groan. When she said 'suggestion', she usually meant 'we-are-going-to-do-this-no-arguments'. "So, we've been far too mopey lately," she went on, and folded her hands behind her back. "I think we deserve a bit of fun. A _celebration_, if you will." She smiled. "Tomorrow night, we should have a festival."

"And what, are we just going to set up stalls in the ballroom and hand out cakes?" the prince said from behind his hands, annoyance obvious in his voice. It was met with a few giggles around the table, and Sam couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"Fine, then we'll have a ball instead."

He glanced at her between his fingers. "A ball," he repeated.

"Yes, I don't think I stuttered," she replied. "I'm sure our musicians have been bored senseless, and it would be a good excuse for everyone to get dressed up and have fun."

Sam was smiling in spite of herself. She found the idea silly... but it really did sound like fun.

After a few moments of debating back and forth, he threw up his hands in resignation and said, "Fine! We'll have a ball tomorrow." The table cheered and buzzed with excited chatter. Once breakfast was finished and the table had been cleared, the ghostly inhabitants of the castle set to work cleaning the ballroom from top to bottom, even going so far as to polish and shine the grand chandelier and replace the spent candles.

But the prince had other plans. He slipped beside Sam as she paced up the hallway towards her room. "I have something I want to show you," he said in a low voice, taking her by the hand and leading her up a hallway she'd never really explored. She looked at his hand in hers and flushed as she followed behind him. They stopped before a great set of doors, and she tried to peer over him to determine its contents.

"Now close your eyes," he said softly. She gave him a quirky look, but obliged and closed her eyes. She felt a tug on her hands and she followed. Her lips curved into a smile as they went. She felt him drop her hands and whisper, "Wait here," then heard him rush off, and the rustling of curtains he was drawing open. "Alright," he said at last. "Open your eyes."

She did, and what met her eyes after they readjusted to the sudden brightness took her breath away. They stood in a library that was at least two stories high, filled to the brim with books of all sizes and colors. She turned in place to take it all in, the light gleaming off the polished wood of the shelves and the gold embossed letters of the mass of tomes that lined them.

"Oh my gosh..." she muttered, her eyes wide. "It's amazing!"

"You like it?"

"I love it!"

"Then it's yours," he said, and for the first time since they'd met, Sam saw him smile.

Her heart melted. "This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me," she said softly, and returned his smile. "Thank you so much, Phantom."

"Call me Danny..." he murmured. "Daniel is my proper name, but I'd like you to call me Danny."

She blushed. "Thank you... Danny."

They spent the remainder of the days exploring the vast contents of the library. He took her hand and floated up to the very top, allowing her to peer at the highest texts. She couldn't recall a time she'd had more enjoyment, and when the day was over, she was thoroughly exhausted. Her thoughts as she lay in bed that night were a confused muddle of excitement, curiosity, and uncertainty. She'd seen the rose, lovelier than any she'd seen so far, and had thought of the sadness of it as it wilted. Several petals were already laying around it, with more sure to follow.

But what had been that shimmer? The castle was obviously enchanted at the very least. Was it possible that this flower was as well?

And before she could think of anything, she fell asleep, dreams of ball gowns and roses playing in her head.

-x-0-x-

Dash sat in the village tavern, drinking from a frothy mug of ale and glaring. Why had the girl been gone so long? Why was no one talking about it?

And why the hell had she rejected him yet again?

It was almost more than he could bear. No matter how anyone tried to cheer him up by praising his obviously good looks or his obvious talent, he still felt shamed. Why would anyone say no to him? He drank from his mug again, and slammed it back down on the bar again.

"You seem to be having love troubles, my good man," said an old man beside him, who wore a thick black traveling cloak and had ancient features.

"It's just this girl," he said acerbically. "I'm trying to get her to marry me but she keeps rejecting me! _Me__! _As though she has the right to reject someone like me!"

The man nodded knowingly. "I completely understand," he said soothingly. "She must be a real beauty, eh?"

"She's the most beautiful girl around," Dash said longingly.

"It must hurt you terribly to know she's been locked up these past few months."

Dash glanced sideways. "Locked up? What do you mean, locked up?"

"Oh yes, locked up. You've all heard the stories of the haunted castle in the woods, yes?"

"Of course, but those are just stories."

"Nay lad, they're real as you and me. And what's worse is the monster that lives there." At this, Dash seemed to be hanging on the man's every word, so he went on after a long swallow of his mead. "I hear the monster has wicked green eyes, and snow-colored hair. They say it looks human, but only because it tries to lure in unsuspecting, beautiful young girls and steal their _souls_!"

"No! That fiend!"

"Oh yes."

"Something must be done about this, but what?" he asked, his mouth slightly agape as he thought.

"Well, if you say anything now, you may blow your chances. The girl may yet escape, and when she does, then you can convince everyone of this monster's existence, and destroy him for good."

-x-0-x-

Danny didn't think he'd ever seen the castle this excited in the nearly two centuries since their curse began. All the ladies of the castle were bustling up and down corridors (and through walls) putting together gowns and accessories at an alarming rate. Tucker had insisted that he get a haircut, at least to make his hair somewhat manageable, and so he'd been forced to bathe and then sit through one of his spectral servants as they attempted to tame his unruly hair. After cutting off the worst of it, they at last said that it was good enough (though still slightly messy, it was a vast improvement).

Evening approached rapidly, and he hadn't seen Samantha all day. She'd been stolen away by Jazz and Valerie to ready her for the coming festivities, and Danny was shooed away when he came to see her.

"No, you cannot see her until tonight!" Jazz said, waving him away. "Go find something acceptable to wear!"

So he was dragged away despite his protests by Tucker and another ghost by the name of Nathan, and forced to search out his best formal attire.

Jazz returned to the other two, who were searching out gowns in Jasmine's considerable wardrobe.

"I don't know if we're going to find the right one in here," Valerie said forlornly.

"Well, I do have one other place we can look," the princess said, and led the girls down the halls, into the lady Queen's old chambers.

"Are you sure about this?" Valerie asked, and Jazz nodded her head.

"Yes. Mother wanted me to have these, she told me so before she died," she said. "Most of them she's never worn. You remember how she hated wearing dresses and avoided it if at all possible."

She searched through what seemed like piles and walls of silk and fine cloth, until at last she came to a dress that made her squeal with delight. "Aha!" she said triumphantly. "I believe we've found your dress!"

Sam was pleasantly shocked by the beauty of a dress that the princess drew from the closet. It was long and flowing, with a tailored bodice of lavender silk and black lace. The waist was fashioned with a large, silk sash of the same color lavender, and the skirts were black, with violet lace embroidered with roses. It was simply beautiful, and Sam said so as she admired it.

"Then let's get you ready while Valerie finds herself a dress," Jasmine said, as she'd already picked herself a gown the previous day. They made their way back to Samantha's chambers, where she washed and dried quickly, and shimmied into a slip. Jasmine helped her into the dress, pulling it over her head and fastening the small black laces that ran the length of the back. They located a matching pair of black and lavender slippers, and Jazz draped a delicate, beautiful chain of gold and amethyst around her neck to complete the outfit.

"Absolutely perfect," she said, beaming, and went to get into her own dress. Valerie emerged a few moments later, wearing a dress of pale gold and silver with matching slippers. Jasmine revealed to have chosen a gown of turquoise and deep blue, with silver trim along the waist, bodice, and the hem, and it suited her well. While Jasmine searched out jewelry for Valerie and herself, Val set to work on Samantha's hair, braiding small plaits on either side of her crown and weaving them back into a delicate little bun, then tying up the rest of her cascading raven locks in an ornate knot behind her head. Small laces of silver had been braided into the plaits, and when Sam saw herself in the mirror, she first thought that surely it must be someone else staring back.

At last, they were all prepared to make their way to the ballroom, and did so. They pushed into the buzzing ballroom, where the music had just begun to play, and a few of the ghostly guests were already dancing in a carol. Sam spotted Danny across the floor, looking simply dashing in a black doublet with silver and gold trim, black breeches, and gray boots with silver and gold buttons and trim. The crest of his forebears showed gleaming on his shoulder, and when he noticed her, he was visibly awed.

The reaction served to make the girl blush, and she bowed. "You clean up well, good sir," she said with a giggle.

His face tinged with color for a moment, and he bowed in return. "You look... wow," he said breathlessly, and offered her his arm. She took it gracefully, and he led her to the floor, ignoring the giggles and waves from his sister except to shoot her an affronted glare, to which she visibly busted up laughing.

The musicians struck up a new song, this one with a steady, quick beat and a Celtic feel, and the carol grew bigger, into a room-wide chain dance. Sam laughed and dragged Danny along, and the pair fell into the chain dance. Each partner took hands and stepped to the rhythm, moving first left and then right, then the males of the room took their partners by the waist and hoisted them into the air, turning about once and returning to the ground. The dance was steady at first, and made Sam laugh, and made Danny's face flush with a mix of excitement and bashfulness. He spotted his sister out of the corner of his eye paired off with Tucker, and contained an open laugh.

The music picked up a quicker pace, and each dancer stepped to the beat. He locked his eyes on hers, and hoisted her into the air again, turned about, and set her back on the ground. Sam felt her heart leap as he moved her through the air and back to the floor again. They linked arms and turned about again and he spun her around once. They stepped back, bowed, and repeated the steps of the dance again. It hadn't donned on Danny that many of the dancers had stepped back to watch now and were clapping along with the rapid beat as the pair continued to dance, spinning and twirling and weaving about each other, stepping with each note, both smiling broadly.

Again they twirled around and stepped to the beat, left and then right, and he took her by the waist, hoisted her into the air, turned about three times, and set her down as the musicians hit the final note of their piece with a great crescendo, and the room erupted with applause. They panted lightly from the effort, and Danny was blushing madly from ear to ear. Despite this, he was beaming.

The musicians struck up another tune, this one much slower, the soft violin and piano dancing over the crowd as they paired off again. Danny offered his partner a hand, and she took it, bowing playfully to him as they began to dance. It was a slow waltz, and she followed him, chewing her lower lip, unsure of what to say. His eyes were soft as they beheld her, something she'd never truly seen from him. It was like something out of a story book.

They wove around the room gracefully as the music floated on. The lights dimmed, and the song began to slow, until at last the final notes sang softly over the crowd, and the song ended. He twirled her once as the music died away, and bowed to her.

The dancing went well into the night, and the young prince Daniel never chose another partner. He never had need, and she was pleased to be his partner for the night. They danced and danced, until the small hours of the morning, and finally the ball was over. Clapping went around from the ball-goers for the musicians and for the prince and his lovely partner, and they at last dispersed, happy and exhausted.

The pair wandered into the chill of the night air, desperate to cool off some measure. They walked and talked for some time, and fell into a comfortable silence for several long minutes.

At last, Danny spoke again. "Are you... happy here?" he asked her.

She caught his eyes with hers and nodded, her lips breaking into a genuine smile. "Yes... I am. I mean, at first it was a bit rough... but I think things are better now. I'm actually happier than I've been in... well, ever, really."

His eyes lit up. Sam found herself adoring the way they gleamed in the shadows of the garden as they walked, but didn't dare think of what that trail of thoughts might lead her to. Could it be possible that she felt more for this Phantom than she'd originally thought possible?

But then something occurred to her, and she chewed her lip apprehensively. "I'm worried about my father," she admitted. "I know my sisters would never let anything happen to him, but I'm worried that he might be sick."

He nodded, and took her hand. "There's a way to know for certain," he said, and led her to his quarters. She was startled to find that the room had been _cleaned_. It was shocking, the difference it made. He picked up a small hand-mirror, and gave it to her. "Here. This mirror was enchanted by someone I knew a long time ago. It will show you anything you want to see."

She looked at the mirror, and then said uncertainly to it, "Show me home... please."

And so it did, as though she was looking through a window into the family living room. It was raining. Jeremy Manson sat in his chair by the hearth, his eyes dull and sad. And behind him, through the window, she spotted a figure, draped in a thick black cloak. She narrowed her eyes to see his face, and at first he appeared to be only a withered old man. Then in a clap of lightning, the face changed. The skin was blue, with deep, wicked red eyes, and black, pointed hair. Sam gasped.

"It's him!" she said, her muscles tensed. "He's at my home!"

Danny took the mirror, staring into its depths, and snarled. "That bastard!"

"I have to go and warn them," she said fearfully, looking up into his fierce green eyes. "I can't let him do something to them."

A pang in his heart made him want to tell her no, that she should stay here where it's safe, but he knew that those words would destroy her, and so he nodded. "Let me get you something that might help you," he said, and ventured into his room again. When he emerged, he was carrying with him a small black box, embossed with silver. "I'm not sure what it is, but an old friend once told me to give it to someone I care about in their time of need. I'm not really sure how it works... or how to open it, for that matter, but you might. If it can help you, at least it will do someone some good."

She took the little box and tucked it away gently, and then wrapped her arms around him.

"I'll be back in one week's time," she said, and disappeared into the castle to ready herself for her journey.

As Danny watched her ride into the dark forest, his heart sank, for he knew in its depths that he might have just made a huge mistake.

And because for once, he was terribly worried, because he loved that girl.

-x-0-x-

Sam rode as hard and fast as she could muster, urging the horse through the eerie forest and finally to the outskirts of town. It took her all of the remaining night hours, and several more after, to reach her destination. She hadn't even noticed that in her rush to get home from the castle, she hadn't remembered to change out of her ballgown.

It became apparent to her exactly why the villagers were staring at her as she trotted through town, but she ignored their curious stares, and came to her home at the edge of town. She dismounted rapidly, stabled the horse, and burst through the door. "Papa!"

Star's eyes shifted from the window to her sister, shock in their depths. "Samantha?"

Paulina exploded out of their father's room. "Samantha! Where have you been!"

"Where's papa?" she demanded, pulling her cloak off and tossing it over her chair.

"He's in his room resting... what in ghosts' name are you wearing?"

"I'll explain later, I need to see if he's alright." She pushed past Paulina and into her father's room, where she found him laying in bed, his face pale. He was in a cold sweat, what the doctors had attributed to a case of pneumonia, despite Starla's protests that pneumonia couldn't possibly be the case, as there was no fever, no coughing, no difficult or labored breathing, and no chest pain, but the doctors had waved her aside, saying she knew not of what she spoke.

Sam knelt beside him and sighed heavily. "I think I'm too late," she muttered, taking her father's hand. "What happened to you?" she whispered, but he was in no fit state to answer her, so she shook her head. Once she was satisfied that he wasn't quite on his deathbed, she returned to the sitting room, where she met the stares of her sisters.

"So..." Starla said, settling back into her chair. "Want to explain?"

Sam sighed. "We were just finishing having a ball," she began, but Paulina seemed affronted by this.

"A ball?" she repeated in a shrill voice. "You've been off having parties and balls and doing ghosts knows what else while we've been here slaving away? How is that fair?"

"Okay first of all, that's not true, it was the first party any of them have had in two hundred years, and secondly, you hardly do anything around the house anyway." Starla snorted a laugh, but Paulina wasn't amused. Sam ignored her attempted protest, and waved her hand to shush her. "I didn't come home to argue with you, Paulina. I came home to see that papa was alright, and because I think someone is trying to hurt our family."

This time Starla spoke. "Who would want to hurt us?" she asked evenly.

"Have either of you noticed anyone new in town? And old man, maybe?"

"Yeah, he bought up the book shop where old man Lancer used to be, then he burned all the books."

"What?"

"Said they were promoting wicked ways of thought and had to be cleansed." Starla's voice was bitter as she spoke.

Sam exhaled angrily. Right now, there was really nothing she could do except try to nurse her father back to health.

-x-0-x-

When news reached Dash that Samantha had returned in a ballgown, he was less confused, and more irate than anyone had expected. "She's back," he said to the shriveled old man in the former book shop. "She's back wearing a gown of silk and lace." He put a hand to his forehead. "What sort of evil magic is she under?"

"Oh, the worst sort," the old man said. "The specter of the castle has put a spell upon her to make her forget the horrible things that happened to her. She'll believe that she feels for this monster."

"Such evil!"

"Indeed." The old man was working away behind a desk, doing something Dash couldn't see. It didn't bother the blond, muscled youth. He was far too busy pacing and complaining.

"What do we do to break the spell?" the young man asked. "How do we get her to come to her senses and marry me?"

"Well, there are a few ways, but the best way is to locate the monster and destroy it," the old man said. "The time is coming soon that the monster can die. I know of a special way to kill it. In one week, the source of the monster's power can be destroyed, and we can send him to a place where he'll never do anything bad to anyone again."

_Or good_, the old man thought, and stifled a cackle.

-x-0-x-

Six days passed with Jeremy in his daughters' care. They tended him night and day, until at last, on the evening of the sixth day since Sam's return, he was able to come to his senses and open his eyes. All three girls rejoiced, because they had feared the worst.

"Sammy?" he said, blinking. "I thought... how long have I been gone?"

"Only a week, Papa," the eldest daughter said.

"How did you escape?" he asked her breathlessly.

"I didn't escape, papa. He let me go."

"That wicked thing let you leave?"

"He's not wicked at all. He's really very sweet. The rose you tried to pluck from the bush had belonged to a dear friend of his once, and she died a very long time ago. It was just a misunderstanding, really." Sam told them of the things that had happened in the castle, and that the Phantom prince had saved her life twice in one day.

Starla listened, feeling as though she were reading from a book, and made mental notes to write down what she heard later. Paulina's face took on a dreamy look and she sighed. "How romantic!" she said as Samantha finished her story.

"What about the evil wizard?" Starla asked, standing up and pacing before the fire. Samantha didn't respond, as her eyes were fixed upon the rose that they had kept in a small glass of water.

"Is that the rose?" she asked, eyeing it with great interest. "The one from the trade?"

"Yes, actually. It's been in bloom in the year since you left, and it began wilting only recently." Sam got to her feet and peered at it, noting the fallen petals around it. She might have inspected it closer, but at that moment, there was a hard knock on the front door.

Paulina peered out the window and gasped. "It looks like a witch hunt!" she cried, backing away from the window. "They have pitchforks and torches!"

Starla rushed to the window and glanced out. "Damn, looks like you were right, Sammy," she said darkly, and went to the door. "I'll stall them, try to get Papa out of here," she said, and pulled it open. "Good evening Dash. What a nice... mob you have."

"Where's Samantha?" he demanded. "Bring her here or we'll have to do something nasty to your house."

Hearing his voice echo through the house, Samantha came to the door, a look of resentment on her pretty face. "What do you want?" she asked.

"Well, I thought maybe we could help you come to your senses. You see we know about the monster in the castle."

"KILL THE MONSTER!" a collective roar went up from the crowd.

"And I thought, maybe if we slay that monster, the wicked spell he's cast upon you will break, and you'd finally agree to marry me."

She spat at the ground. "You thick-headed imbecile," she snarled. "There is no spell! I've never wanted to marry you, and I never will!"

"You see how that evil ghost has twisted her mind?" said an old man, hobbling to the front of the mob. "She barely knows of the horrible things that befell her in that castle."

"YOU!" she roared, and surged forward to assault the wicked old man. Dash caught her by the arm.

"If you're not under a spell prove it by marrying me!"

Starla thought her sister was going to do something rash, but it turned out to be much worse, as Samantha turned and belted Dash across the jaw with all the strength she could muster. Two men from the mob rushed forward and detained her, holding her arms fast so she couldn't repeat the action. Dash staggered in place, touching his jaw.

"So that's how it is, is it?" he hissed. "Fine." He turned to address the mob. "It's worse than we thought, my friends," he said, gesturing to Samantha. "See how she has become enraged? We must KILL this monster!"

The mob roared their approval, and following Dash's lead, marched off into the forest, but not before locking the family into the house and barring the doors and windows from the outside. Despite their hardest attempts to escape, they couldn't get the doors to budge, and Samantha sank to the floor, her rage and sorrow forming tears in her eyes. She banged a fist on the ground.

Starla wasn't prepared to give up yet, though, and searched the house for something hard to try and break through the door. Paulina stayed by their father's side, tending to his ailment.

Samantha's mind was racing. There was something she was overlooking, something she just had to remember. Paulina stood up and moved across the room to refill the bowl with hot water from the kettle, and knocked over Sam's knapsack by mistake. The little black box tumbled out of it and slid across the wood floor. "Sorry," the girl said, and went to retrieve it, but Samantha picked it up first and stared at it.

A crease had appeared where she was sure none had been before, and she pulled it open at the seam. Inside the box was a ring, made of white gold and set with a gleaming amethyst. "Is that a wedding ring?" Paulina asked over her shoulder. Sam gave her a galled look and focused her eyes back on the ring. The inside of the lid had a message, written in the same ornate silver that decorated the outside of the box.

_Should you ever require to return to the place you are most needed, turn me thrice._

So Samantha bit her lower lip and slipped the ring onto her middle finger, and turned it three times. The world dissolved around her.

-x-0-x-

Daniel was hoping that Sam would return at the end of the week as she'd promised, but the mirror had told him otherwise. He'd gone to see that she was okay (despite Tucker's protests not to invade her privacy) and had watched with mingled horror and anger as a brutish blond male had tossed her into her house and boarded up the doors and windows, though he had felt a leap of pride in his gut when she'd decked him in the face.

It was with yet more rage that he watched a withered old man lead the angry villagers through the forest. It was him, the wicked sorcerer, and he was bringing them to destroy him. He looked over at the rose in its glass case, nearly completely wilted, petals having fallen all around it. Tonight was the night, he thought to himself, and with the girl locked away, there was nothing he could do to change it. He set the mirror down, unable to watch anymore, and stood at the balcony.

Tucker burst in through the doors then. "Danny!" he shouted frantically. "The castle is under attack!" Jasmine followed the steward into the room.

"We need to repel them! We have to do something," she said to her brother, who hardly seemed to hear her. "Danny? Aren't you going to do something?"

"Let them come," he said quietly, his voice quivering with sadness.

"But..."

"I said, let them come. It's too late anyway."

And then Jasmine beheld the rose, and that it was wilted, and sighed with sadness for her little brother. But she had other plans than to let him just die, so she turned on her heel, dragging a startled Tucker from the room. "Find every servant, every ghost in this castle, and prepare to defend it. Try not to harm the villagers, they're likely under some sort of glamour... or maybe they're just under an ignorant mob-mentality. Either way, try to scare them off if you can, but do what you must. I'll take the guards to main hall and fight off anyone who gets past you."

Tucker nodded and vanished through the floor. "I guess it all comes down to this," the princess said to herself quietly, and set off to defend her home.

-x-0-x-

What met the mob as they arrived at the castle (just after they smashed through the great oak doors with a battering ram) was complete silence. The hallway was dark, and the tapestries and suits of gleaming armor cast long shadows across the deep red carpet in the glow of the torchlight. They stepped in quietly at first, until Dash made his way towards the stairs, shouting "Alright, monster! Come out and fight!"

Only his echo responded, and it was quiet for several long minutes.

And then a rock collided with the side of his head, and he toppled over. The owner of the rock couldn't be seen anywhere, and suddenly it was raining stones and pebbles around the villagers, knocking into them.

"What sorcery is this!" one man shouted and ducked behind a table. The table shifted away from him and tossed itself across the room. Haunting voices suddenly echoed around the room, and the villagers began swinging weapons in all directions to fight their invisible assailants.

No one saw the old man sneak off to the darkness of the west wing. No one except Dash, who'd come to his senses an hour after the battle began, and he finally got to his feet to follow the old man to where he was sure the monster would live. He wanted to see the evil thing smote, then he could finally have what he wanted. He arrived just behind the old man, who was standing behind the monster, a slim lad who looked no older than he, with snow-white hair, toxic green eyes, and skin that reminded him of death.

The old man cast off the cloak and changed in a clap of lightning. A storm was approaching, it seemed. The man before him was not withered nor old at all. Instead he was tall and broad-shouldered, with skin of blue and deep, wicked red eyes. He wore robes of silver, and had black hair parted into two devilish points. "At last, the time has come, and my sister's protection of you will die tonight. You along with it," the man said in a low deadly voice.

Dash watched intently. The man glanced back at him. "And tonight, once he is dead, you can finally have what you want." The young man smirked and folded his arms, prepared to settle in and watch. "Any last words?" the tall man asked.

The Phantom Prince glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were morose and dull, and he said nothing.

"Very well," the man began, but was interrupted when another clap of lightning lit the sky and Sam was suddenly on the walk below them, looking dizzy and disoriented, but not so much that she didn't look straight up to the balcony.

"DANNY!" she shouted over the din.

"Sam?" he said quietly, light coming back to his eyes. He stepped aside swiftly as Plasmius attempted a killing blow.

"Stall the girl!" the sorcerer shouted. Without hesitation Dash turned and ran back through the halls while Plasmius attacked the boy again, who fought back with renewed resolve.

Sam sprinted as fast as her legs would carry her, past the ghosts and frantic villagers, over toppled furniture and broken suits of armor and shattered marble statues, up the west staircase and into the eerie west wing. She sprinted past the recently-cleaned hall and its blur of crumbling architecture and half-covered portraits, until she came face to face with Dash.

"You're not getting in there until the Phantom is dead!" he said loudly, and used his considerable mass to block her from passing.

"Damn it MOVE!" she snarled, trying to shove past him. "You are so damn THICK!"

"And you're being stubborn! All you had to do was say yes, and this would have never happened!" She was trembling with rage now, but he didn't seem to notice, and went on talking. "That thing up there has your head so twisted that you can't even see that we were going to be married! And all because of some wicked ghost, some _monster_? No, your head is obviously troubled, and once that thing is dead, you and I will be together forever!"

This time there was no one to stop her from hitting him repeatedly, but there was no time, and she knew it, so she settled for a single punch to the jaw and a kick to the chest. The wind went out of the blond's chest and he toppled over, wheezing with pain. She leaped over him and continued on, bursting into the room. "Danny!"

The phantom prince and the wicked sorcerer were locked in battle, throwing glowing, burning light at one another. The room seemed to be falling to pieces. Danny ducked below a vicious, violet-fisted punch and slid to the right, catching a glimpse of Sam. "Stay back!" he said, and she paused. The punch landed against a pillar and the room shook, prompting her to move back quickly to avoid falling debris.

Then from behind her, Dash gripped her arms and held her fast. "Let me go!" she shouted frantically, fighting him with all her might. Danny took a hard punch to the gut and a harder punch to the chest, sending him skidding across the floor and into the balcony. The sorcerer Plasmius pounced, standing over the boy with wicked eyes.

"You stupid, stupid boy!" he shouted triumphantly. Madness rimmed his eyes. "All these years, biding my time, waiting for the protection my ridiculous sister gave you to crumble by your own doing!" Frantic glee echoed off the walls. The rain fell harder, splashing against the stone. "Had she not interfered, had you not fallen in love with that girl, you would still be immortal! But no longer!" He cackled now. Something magenta and bright formed in his hand, a dagger of evil magic. "Did you not even realize that you felt more alive because you ARE more alive? How do you feel, little princeling, knowing that the woman who tried to protect you, and that girl you fell in love with, would be the death of you?"

Now he was positively shrieking with laughter. Danny tried to sit up, but a boot to his chest stayed him, pinned him to the ground. And then the dagger fell, and Sam screamed as the first strike pierced the Phantom in the stomach. He shouted in pain. The blood ran and mingled with the rain, and the sorcerer looked down at him with psychotic glee. He brought up the dagger again, and time seemed to slow as he went in for the kill.

Sam screamed again, this time bucking, the back of her head slamming into Dash's nose. He released her right arm, which she used to promptly, and forcefully, elbow him in the groin. With a squeal of pain he released her completely and sank to the floor, moaning. She tore away from him and leaped onto Plasmius' back, snatching up his cloak and forcing it over his head, completely blocking his vision.

"GET OFF ME!" he roared, bucking to try to dislodge her. She clung with all the force she could. Danny moved to avoid the blow, now sent askew by Sam's interference. Plasmius at last succeeded in throwing Sam off and sending her rolling to the floor when he whipped around and caught her hard in the leg with the knife, and then he moved the cloak from his head in time to see brilliant green consume him. The air rippled around and inside him.

Then it ceased, and he looked around. All eyes were upon him, the three pairs in the room with him, and those on the walk below them, consisting of fleeing villagers, the ghostly inhabitants of the castle, and three newcomers who had recently smashed through their own front door to join the fray. He lurched forward to attack the boy again... but fell _through_ him. He was just as startled as the people who watched on... and then he noticed his hands. They were dissolving into violet fragments of light.

"You killed me," he said, his tone bemused. "But I think you're too late." His feet dissolved, then his legs and hands. The rest of him followed, leaving only his head, and he managed one last wicked cackle as his mouth dissolved, and at length, the noise too dissolved into nothingness, leaving only the sounds of rain behind.

All was still for a brief moment... and then Danny collapsed, his wounds finally taking their toll. Sam cried out in anguish and crawled to his side, unable to stand on her wounded leg. "Danny get up, you're fine!" she said sternly, rolling him onto his back. His face was pale (rather, paler than usual), and she realized he was going into shock. "No no no no! You listen to me, you're going to be fine."

He coughed. "Sam... I'm glad I got to see you again," he said, his green eyes drifting from her face to the hand she'd placed on his chest. "So the ring... was that in the box?" he asked weakly.

She nodded. She thanked the powers that be for the rain, because it obscured the burning tears that obstinately leaked from her eyes, despite her hardest attempts to force them down. "It brought me here," she said, brushing his hair from his face gently. He nodded, a smile of relief spreading across his face.

"Good," he said softly, leaning his head back, allowing the rain to splash his face. He couldn't really feel it anymore. He was beginning to lose feeling, even the coldness was turning to numbness. "Sam, I'm sorry you had to go through all this... but I'm glad I had once last chance to say goodbye..."

"Don't say things like that, you're going to be alright," she said, the tears now splashing down her cheeks. Her voice quivered, but how she hated that she couldn't control it.

But Danny shook his head, placed a cold hand to her cheek, and gave her one last smile.

As she began to sob, the last petal from the nearby rose fell, floating slowly to the bottom of the case.

"You're not supposed to die," Sam whispered. "You can't die, because I love you, and it's not fair if you leave me here..." she trailed off, now blinded by wet tears, and buried her face until his chest.

The petal struck the bottom of the case, and all was silent for a moment.

And then the petals began to glow, and the glass case shattered. The glass turned to liquid gold and the moment it touched the stone of the floor, spread away, transforming all in its path. It spread out, turning dark stone to white marble and polished gold. It touched Danny along its path and he began to glow, causing a distressed Sam to jump back suddenly and shield her eyes from the blinding light. His hair shimmered for a moment and turned black as night. His skin warmed to a lively pallor. The blood that had spread across the rain-soaked stone faded from sight, and through the tears in his doublet, she saw the gashes and wounds gleam with white light and then close.

The rain ceased, giving way to pink and gold sky, painted by the rising sun, which fell upon the transformed castle. The ghosts of the castle felt themselves become flesh, an experience that left many thoroughly shocked, as the sunlight touched each of them and the shimmer of the castle spread to their feet. The golden sunlight fell upon the dark forest, and it twisted, the warped trees and darkness fleeing in favor of the beautiful green place it had once been. In one last flash of brilliant light, all was returned to its original form and appearance.

Sam peered at Danny once again, and he opened his eyes. No longer were they green and ghostly, but a fierce, bright blue. He blinked several times and his eyes fell on her face. Her own lavender eyes were wide with surprise and a gleam of joy. "Danny?" she whispered, not daring to speak any louder, for fear she'd wake from a dream.

"You broke the curse," he said, and sat up. Their faces were inches apart. "You broke the curse!" he said again, a shout of joy, then took her in his arms and kissed her with all the love and joy he could muster.

From the walk below them and within the castle, cheers and cries of excitement and bliss were heard from the inhabitants of the castle, and even the Mansons were joyous, and they celebrated together with tears and laughter.

Once injuries were tended and the aftermath of the battle was cleaned and washed away, a great ball was held. And Prince Daniel took the girl Samantha Belle as his partner, and never wanted another, and she felt the same. While many of their fellow dancers were indulging in the celebration and frivolity, the pair of them sneaked away from the party and made their way to the balcony. There was so much unsaid between them about all that'd happened, but it would likely take weeks, maybe months to get it all out.

For now, Danny was content to just say a few things to her. He had a long time to say the rest. "Sam... I can't believe it still," he said at length. "I can feel my own heart beating now, it's so strange to me. I could never ever thank you enough for this."

"For what?" she replied, standing beside him on that balcony, staring out into the night sky. "All I did was fall in love with you."

"Exactly. You felt for me even though I was... well you know." He shrugged and turned his eyes on her lovely face. "And for that, thank you."

"Don't thank me for that," she said teasingly, and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank me for this." He wrapped his own around her delicate frame and they stood there for a long time, simply happy in each other's embrace. And then Danny cupped her face in his hand, and pressed his lips to hers. And together they made their way back to the party, where another room-wide chain dance was forming, and they fell in, laughing and blissful, stepping to the beat, dancing together until the sun rose.


End file.
